The Ghost, The Opportunist and The Predator
by Falara Hughes
Summary: Months after the events of the Thief 2014 game, Garrett has an unexpected reunion with old acquaintances as a new Thief-Taker General establishes himself in The City.
1. Better the Devil You Know

**Part 1: Better the Devil You Know**

With the Gloom gone and Orion dead, it didn't take long for The City to return to business as usual. Baron Northcrest's men took back the streets and those sworn to the Graven's cause quickly disappeared. It wasn't the first time a revolution in The City had come to a fruitless end, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

For my part, business as usual meant checking up on contacts and seeing where I needed to rebuild ties. Some of the criminals sided with the Graven and a lot of good talent was lost in the riots. Others took their business elsewhere like rats leaving a sinking ship. Couldn't say that I blamed them. If I hadn't been a part of what brought this city back from the Gloom—if I hadn't found out who was in the middle of it—I might have left as well.

Erin... Where did you go?

"My goodness, Garrett, will you forget her, please? You are going from 'would-be big brother' to something far more disturbing."

Scribe was usually hard to get information from without a few coins in hand. She had an impressive knowledge of people's whereabouts in The City, to the point where she made enough money from espionage to give up pick-pocketing altogether. We sat on a rooftop in the Skinmarket, watching clients come and go from Ruby Rosewater's flat. Scribe was waiting for one client in particular. I was only there because she sent for me, and it was time for me to remind her of that. "I thought that you had information I could use."

"Yes, but not about her. I wager if Erin is smart, she got her cache together and left The City. There's nothing here for anyone who isn't corrupt and I don't know why you would encourage her to stay."

"Then why am I here?" She didn't have to look at me to tell that I was losing my patience.

"Rumor has it that you took care of the Thief-Taker General."

"You should teach your parrot to say real sentences instead of stringing nonsense together." I almost laughed, but the thought left me when she stared at me from behind her magnifying goggles. They made her eyes look exaggerated. It was.. unsettling.

"Hey. Rumor listens and learns, same as I do. She knows the good information from the bad. You took him out, didn't you, Garrett?"

"I just let nature take its course." That was much as I was willing to admit. "The ruins below the old cathedral are pretty dangerous. Someone with a crippled leg isn't very likely to return to the surface."

"Spoken like a true master of the shadows." Scribe did enough laughing for the both of us but stopped when the next client came to Rosewater's door: Tom Grayer, a well-known courier. No thief had ever stolen a package from him. I never bothered to try. He always seemed to be empty-handed when he was making his so-called deliveries, which meant he couldn't have been delivering them himself.

"Trying to divine the secret of Tom Grayer," I wondered.

Scribe chuckled quietly this time. "I already know it, and if you'd like to, you'll attend the auction like everyone else."

"So what did you want to tell me?"

Her face held onto a glimpse of amusement until she started talking again. "A lot of the lifters and fingermsiths see you as a hero, Garrett."

"Well they're wrong."

"I agree. You're not a hero. Killing the Thief-Taker General doesn't solve anything; it just paves the way for the next generation."

Her message was clear even before she finished speaking: A new Thief-Taker General had finally been chosen. I knew it was only a matter of time before Baron Northcrest found another right hand to help bleed this city dry.

"Has he arrived yet?"

"Yes, but I haven't had a chance to look at him. Rumor has it he is young and healthy, unlike the last sod that held the title. Hails from Illyria. Hasn't had a taste of alcohol, opium or snatch since he arrived." She took notes on a small pad, writing cryptic symbols with a stick of charcoal. No better way to protect your knowledge than keep it in a language of your own design. After that, she finally took her gaze away from Rosewater's flat and pulled her goggles down from her face. Now I could see the severity of the situation in her eyes.

"The air is bitter with caution, Garrett." She turned the rest of her body in my direction. "Rumor has it that he is doing away with the black tax. No immunity for anyone caught breaking the law."

I scoffed. "The Baron won't go for that. It'll cause another riot in the streets."

"I suspect that's what he wants. What better way to flush out the fences and markets..." Scribe had a lot more to say, but while my ears listened, my eyes caught a glimpse of something that glinted in the moonlight. I reacted in time to pull her out of the immediate path of the arrow but it still caught her in the shoulder. We rolled into a shadow together but that was no hiding place from the person who fired at us.

When he stepped out into the moonlight, I thought he was an assassin. Scribe and I both have had our share of being hunted for taking one precious secret too many. But the longer I studied him, the more I recognized the posture of authority he displayed. The crest of the Baron's Watch was pressed into the shoulder of his leather and should have been a dead giveaway, but for the rest of his armor, he could have been one of the mercenaries that lived in The City.

"I did not believe that tracking you down would end so quickly." That Illyrian accent... Scribe and I barely needed a moment to acknowledge each others' confirmation. The new Thief-Taker General was young, healthy and confident. He was unconcerned about being alone and outnumbered, which told me there was something about this meeting I wouldn't soon forget.

I reached for my blackjack and Scribe went for her dagger, but almost as soon as she drew it, the weapon slipped from her grasp. All of a sudden she dropped to one knee and started to lose control of the left side of her body. I looked at the arrow in her shoulder, then at the General.

"A paralytic agent," he confirmed. "She would not suffer so much if you had let it strike her where intended. Now, it will be a long night for her as she suffocates to death. Shall I make it a long night for you, too?"

I had his answer before he could aim his bow. A flash bomb was all I needed to disappear, but I couldn't leave Scribe to die at his hands. The bright flash bought us precious seconds and I scooped her up. Lucky for her that she's always been so short and light. I made a running leap for Rosewater's bedroom window and surprised her latest session by landing on their backs. There was no time for a smart remark. Scribe had already lost her mobility and each struggling breath told me how little time I had to act on her behalf. 

* * *

><p>I worked my way through the back alleys of the Skinmarket. Rhythmic tapping on a dusted window was a code I learned long ago, and an abandoned storefront opened to allow quick passage to Black Alley. There was a man I knew there who could cure poison just by seeing the symptoms. If he couldn't help Scribe, then The City would lose one of its best spies.<p>

Maurus was home but he had unexpected company. Lately the Queen of Beggars always seemed to be conveniently having tea where I needed to be. She didn't even seem surprised when Maurus called out my name and got up to take Scribe from my arms.

"The new Thief-Taker leaves quiet the impression, doesn't he." The Queen threw the comment in the air but I knew it was aimed at me. Just like the cup of tea she held out in my direction. At first I didn't move or respond to either—I was too busy studying the way Maurus picked through unlabeled bottles for ingredients only he knew. Too busy watching Scribe fight for one breath of the air that was all around us.

"Don't worry about Scribe." The Queen of Beggars reminded me that she and her tea cup were still waiting for me. As I took hold of the saucer, I finally heard the rushing gasp of Scribe's lungs filling with air. The powder that Maurus blew into her nostrils worked fast enough to give her that much control.

"You see, Garrett? She breathes life anew, much like this city, thanks to you."

"Even dying, Scribe would argue with you on that point," I said as I took Maurus' seat. "If Harlan were still alive, this new Thief-Taker wouldn't be out there lurking on the Thieves' Highway."

"When an alpha dog is killed, another always rises to restore the role. It is nature. Even when the Master Thief has picked his last lock, another will come and pick the next."

There was only one thief I thought might be there to pick the next lock once I'd picked my last. "Have any of your eyes seen Erin?"

The Queen of Beggars looked beyond me—No, inside me. Even though she was blind to the physical world, I always suspected that her dead eyes saw things that most other eyes couldn't.

"Though the sun rises over The City once more, its soul must heal from wounds both real and perceived. Until it is fully healed, you will not find what you are looking for."

"And just what is it that you think I'm looking for?"

"The small light within the shadows that you call home."

I was thankful for Maurus' disruptive approach, which put an end to my cryptic conversation with the Queen of Beggars. When I turned to look at him, I could also see that Scribe was doing much better than she was only minutes ago.

"She'll be fine here if you want to leave her," Maurus said. "Still gotta dig the arrow out of her shoulder."

I dropped a handful of coins into my untouched cup of tea and passed it onto him. "When she wakes up, tell her she owes me Grayer's secret." Scribe could also be made to sell information for favors. Saving someone's life was the most valuable favor you could spend.

On my way out, the Queen of Beggars had one last thing to say. "You will find your light, Garrett. It has already found you." I wasn't sure what she meant by it so I moved on without another word.


	2. An Honest Conversation

**Part 2: An Honest Conversation**

I hadn't heard from Basso in days so I decided to pay him a visit. I also didn't expect the Crippled Burrick to be so crowded at night. It almost seemed like a third of the city's lowlifes were there, getting drunk and feeding the rumor mill. I had to stop and listen for a moment.

"Shouldn't be drinkin' up all my coin like this, but what the hell. No more black tax means I got extra."

"Yeah, but for how long? Thief-Taker's not taking the tax, that means he'll be taking heads when he catches you breaking the law."

"No good or bad work in this shit-sop city. How's a man supposed to make a living?"

"Could try the Skinmarket. I hear the Aristofrocks like to treat themselves on occasion... Some noblemen, too."

"Oh, piss off."

The day more men walked the Skinmarket than women would truly be the day of The City's ruin.

* * *

><p>I greeted Basso in the usual way—stepping out of a shadow he'd forgotten was there. "It's been months since you were in prison and you're still looking worse for wear. Maybe it's time you tried visiting a bath house."<p>

He didn't jump like he usually does. Must have been too drunk. Or not drunk enough. "Heh, the only bath house I'd visit would have to be owned by Madame Xiao-Xiao, and I wouldn't be gettin' clean there, if you know what I mean."

I gave him a look that told him I wish I didn't.

"Looking for work? Scribe went out the door with my last job earlier, but I got some—"

"Scribe's been injured."

"What!" Basso practically lost his hat. "What happened? Has she been arrested? Has she talked? _Can_ she still talk?"

"Relax. Your secrets are safe with her."

He scoffed at the concept. "Nobody's secrets are safe with her."

"She hasn't been arrested. I got her to Maurus."

"So you were with her? What happened?"

"The new Thief-Taker introduced himself." I was bitter about the encounter. The way he approached us—how casually he wandered the Thieves' Highway alone. He was more active than any of his predecessors.

Basso scoffed again. "Oh, you mean Mister I-Don't-Need-No-Black-Tax? Yeah, a lotta folks have been sayin' that he can't be corrupted."

"What do _you_ say?"

"Hey. You don't get to be a good fence without knowing that every man has his price. Some are just higher than others." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, "Think you could find that out for me, Garrett? I was gonna pay Scribe to find out, but obviously that's not going to happen, is it?"

Thieves took jobs from each other all the time and since there was no telling how long it would take Scribe to recover, someone had to find out what made this new Thief-Taker tick. "Where do I start?"

"The Watch Council office in Stonemarket, of all places. Nobody knows where he lives yet and he's seen there a lot. See if you can follow him once he finally heads home."

* * *

><p>The task sounded simple enough: Follow the Thief-Taker General to his home and take whatever information I could find. From the sound of things he didn't live in Harlan's old residence—another sign that he was trying to do things differently. What a fool. If there's one thing The City fights against to the death, it's change.<p>

The Watch Council office in Stonemarket was small but there were still many good shadows around it. From its side alley, I could see and hear a heated discussion between the Thief-Taker and three of his men.

"The black tax has been in place since before you could stand up and piss! How do you expect us to make a living wage?"

"Honestly. Just like the laws you swore to uphold."

An honest Thief-Taker? If that was true, then I would have finally seen everything.

I watched through a window pane as he worked calmly on his paperwork, barely giving audience to the blacktops that confronted him. They were angry but not enough to cross the line made by his desk.

"Understand, gentlemen, that I know your pasts very well. You were all thugs and criminals before the Watch decided to pay you for your barbaric services. While you may have served The City well in some regard, in others I have found just cause to have each one of you hanged before the sun rises on another day."

I was almost as surprised by his words as his men were.

"You wouldn't do that," the ringleader argued but the uncertainty in his voice betrayed him. "This shithole hardly has a man left to defend her!"

The Thief-Taker stopped writing and looked at him. "Do you think yourselves irreplaceable? Is that why you have boldly skirted the law and abused your positions for so long?" He stood up and stepped around his desk to approach them. "It is true that you are all quite healthy specimens. Such good health has also afforded you the strength to assert your authority on the citizens of this city. But when you have been hung from the gallows, the resources that will be freed by your deaths will provide another, more honest man the opportunity to develop that same strength." He looked each man in the eye until they backed down, one by one. "Now, if you wish to keep your lives, you will learn to live off the generous wages provided by Baron Northcrest. Dismissed."

Impressive. The Thief-Taker was making enemies out of his allies. More importantly, he seemed genuine in his intention to restore order to The City. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, considering how much I profited from the corruption.

"Come in, Master Thief. The window is open and I have no interest in bringing you to justice right now."

Another surprise. Did he know I was there the whole time or was he guessing? I never trusted the word of a Thief-Taker but it was impolite not to accept such a curious invitation. He was already seated behind his desk when I decided to step in but I stayed close to the window no matter how preoccupied he looked.

"You may leave the window open if you wish. I assume you will be going out that way once we have finished speaking."

I leaned against the wall and folded my arms. "Oh come now. You seem all too sure of yourself to assume anything."

He ignored my verbal jab. "I don't believe we were properly introduced before."

"No, our introduction was _very_ telling. After all, you _almost_ killed someone." I wanted to see the disappointment in his eyes when I inferred that his poison failed. It was there, though not for the reason I'd hoped.

"It is unfortunate that your friend did not die. She will not have a good life from now on. None of you will." He looked at me with a different gaze from the one he'd given his own men. I had seen hatred in his eyes when he talked down to the blacktops minutes before. As he studied me, I perceived a softer emotion behind his scrutiny.

Pity?

"You are a very talented man, Master Thief. You and all those in your community. If the circumstances were different, you might even be one of my best agents."

"Is that why you invited me in here? To offer me a job?"

"I am not that naive." That look in his eyes bothered me. Did this man, who nearly killed someone in my presence, think himself sympathetic to me or other thieves? "I know you are here for information and I have some to give. My name is Francesco Accardi, and I have been sent here to destroy all that makes it possible for the blackhands to thrive."

I mocked him with my smile. "Then you'll need to start in the Baron's own back yard. All of nobility makes opportunities for people like me to survive. From the trinkets they covet to the deeds they want done. If you want to put me out of work, you'll have to start by getting rid of the rich."

He laughed a little. "Yes, I suppose that would be the best way to go about this." Then that piteous look returned to his features. "I have known the conditions that have made you and your kind as you are. On the streets of my own home town—its rooftops, too—I learned what it was to survive. Then I grew weary of being part of the problem. I decided instead to be the solution. You and your friends should understand that this is also an option for you, Master Thief."

"A thief has no friends," I argued, but in his eyes I could tell that he knew different from my words.

"A man with no friends would not risk capture to save someone who was dying. What I witnessed on the roof the other other night proved to me that there is a light in the darkest shadows of this city, just as there was in mine." Accardi stood up and—despite seeing my fingers wrap around another flash bomb—took several steps in my direction to continue his plea.

"Tell your people there is a chance for them to use their skills for a greater good. They will be pardoned, though it will be a hard road." His gaze and voice changed as if he had aged with bitterness in a single moment. "Yet that road will be far less brutal than the one that shall be paved over the corpses of those who continue to resist. The City will be made anew. I have sworn an oath to bring it to pass."

The Thief-Taker turned to his desk and I took the opportunity to leave. Whether or not he had more to say, I had enough information to relay to Basso.


	3. That Grand Contradiction

**Part 3: That Grand Contradiction**

After we talked, Basso decided he would reach out to his contact in Illyria for more details about Accardi. That would take days, and in the meantime, life had to go on. I had a few jobs lined up and I wasn't about to stop because the new Thief-Taker was on a self-righteous crusade.

Before I left the clock tower, I picked up the trail of an unexpected visitor. A dark blue feather wafted down from the rafters where Rumor was preening her feathers. Scribe's macaw was surprisingly stealthy despite how eye-catching such an exotic bird was in The City.

"_Garret, Garret._"

I offered her my arm for a landing and brushed her underbelly in a side-to-side pattern. Rumor was well-trained and only delivered messages after a certain gesture was made.

"_Auction time. Pieces to be auctioned include Rubella's love letters to her mistress. Pernforth's hidden cache whereabouts. Grayer's courier secret._"

"_What!_" I saved Scribe's life and she still had plans to auction that secret to the highest bidder! I knew Maurus could be trusted to relay my words—Scribe was ignoring a debt that she owed.

"I'm going to kill your mistress, bird. Where is she?"

"_The dawn of The City's new life. The auction is being held at the dawn of The City's new life._"

I couldn't believe it. Scribe and I were never friends but we respected each other well enough not to cross any lines. I dismissed Rumor and finished preparing to leave the clock tower. She was going to give me what I was owed, even if I had to take it from her.

* * *

><p>The Dawn's Light floated in that same alcove like a ghost ship haunting The City's coastline. It had taken damage during the riots and was quickly abandoned by what was left of the Graven. After the Baron's Watch tore through it for treasure and rebel holdouts, the entire ship was left to the mercy of the sea. Bad memories floated in those waters for me and I was not happy to board her again.<p>

The ship had become a new home for several of the vagrants since I was last on board. Long-forgotten families that were forced on the streets had made their beds here and started trading among each other. Budding black market deals were also in the works within its hull. In a way, the derelict was a new district of The City. Now I understood why Scribe's auction was located on the Dawn but that still didn't excuse her debt.

It wasn't hard to find out where on the ship the auction would be held. A select number of thieves and fences were gathered in an empty storage room above deck. I watched Rumor fly out of a portal near that store room and knew she was next door. While everyone else on the invitation list mingled, I went straight for the woman who owed me her life.

Scribe had just finished wrapping a fresh bandage around her shoulder when I entered. "Didn't Maurus relay my message?"

"You got an invitation, didn't you?" She looked at me without any fear of retaliation. "Besides, a girl has to eat. Especially after you took her most recent job."

"You were injured. Basso needed that information and there was no telling when you'd be able to get it."

"Yes, and that's exactly why I have to have this auction: For the lean times ahead." She held up her good hand to stop me from responding. "Calm down and think, Garrett. Would I have called you here if I meant to double-cross you? You saved more than my life, and a life debt is very valuable to me."

Scribe knew slight of hand and took any opportunity to show off her talent. She flipped the fingers on her right hand several times before smugly holding out a folded piece of paper that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. I decided not to ruin her moment by telling her that I saw the compartment on her bracer where she kept the paper hidden.

"Grayer's secret," she announced needlessly.

I took it without hesitation and wondered, "What about the auction?"

"Oh, someone else is still going to win a copy. You just earned the privilege of knowing it first, without paying mountains of gold."

"Fair enough." I couldn't ask for much more than a free head start on ruining Grayer's courier business. He was overheard more than once bragging that no thief alive could take him down—an open invitation for me to prove him wrong. The only thing that could have pleased me more would have been discovering the secret on my own.

"Why don't you stick around and see who your competition's going to be?"

It might have been a good idea; however, I wanted to put that knowledge to use right away. Before I could express that, Rumor flew in through a porthole and dipped her head anxiously towards us. "_Trouble. Trouble. Time to go!_"

Only then did Scribe and I pick up on the sound of activity along the bay. We looked out of the porthole and saw our well-meaning Thief-Taker General leading a battalion of blacktops across the shoreline. They positioned themselves in front of the planks and makeshift bridges that were erected by the community that lived in the Dawn's Light. They also brought with them several cannons and catapults which were being positioned in the direction of the ship.

"Not good," I said and turned for the door. It opened before I could reach it and Six-Fingers looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

Six was born without the last two fingers on each of his hands. He claimed that made him a better thief but I wasn't about to remove four of mine to test that theory.

"Oi, Garrett." He greeted me but I knew where his mind was. "Scribe, love, we gotta dash. The Watch's come and they brought mortar."

"I saw, but—"

"_Attention, everyone!_"

The three of us looked through different portholes and saw Accardi holding a megaphone to his mouth. "You are all trespassing on private property, yet I understand the defiant need. Many of you have lost your homes, and this has become one of few places you could turn to for shelter. I do not wish to take away your refuge, but there are people among you who have committed far worse crimes than a mere trespassing."

As he spoke, the Thief-Taker wandered towards one of the cannons that was prepared to fire. He took a torch from a guard and held it high.

"This cannon has been given a long fuse. When it is lit, you will have until the fuse is done to hand over all the criminals in your midst. If every last criminal is not brought forth by then, this cannon will herald the hellfire which will rain down upon the Dawn."

When he lit the long fuse, the Watch guards set fire to oil-soaked stones that were loaded in the catapults. Then the panic started. Dozens of men, women and children crying out from the Dawn's lower decks as they scrambled for the nearest exit. Unfortunately for them, the Watch waited at every gangplank.

I should have been gone by then. Scribe and Six as well. What we witnessed had frozen us in place. People were being knocked unconscious and thrown to the rough waters in the bay. Others were trampled by the tide of people they were trapped in. Meanwhile, the cannon's fuse counted down the moments before an entire community would be destroyed. I realized I only needed to clear a few guards so that the vagrants could overpower the blockade. Scribe and Six must have had the same thought because we all reached for our weapons at the same time.

Scribe shot first, sending a small crossbow bolt from her wrist and into the crown of a blacktop trying to knock a woman in the water. He was easily thrown to the waves by the crowd that pushed against him. Six used a much larger crossbow and its bolt pierced the eye of another guard. My arrow went through the throat of a different guard before he could finish beating a man into submission.

With just that difference made, more of the vagrants had a chance to flee the ship; however, our actions had a far worse consequence. With his suspicions confirmed, the Thief-Taker would not wait for the cannon's fuse to burn down. He gave a signal and the Baron's Watch released their payload.

The Dawn caught fire quickly thanks to a thick sludge included in the projectiles. The panicked crowd became even more violent then, and their fear-fueled retaliation provided a distraction for our escape. Six was greeted by a flash of flames when he opened the store room door but it died down quickly, then the three of us rushed out. We intended to go our separate ways but one blaze after the other pushed us in the same direction: Towards the quarterdeck. A door was open there but another volley from the guard collapsed part of the deck above it and sealed off the way inside.

"Shit, the place's fallin' apart!" Six cried out the obvious before Scribe jumped up and got a one-handed grip on a small vent above the doorway. With her arm in a sling she would never make it out alive; fortunately for her, the fire had kept us all together. Six and I gave her a boost, then he climbed up after her and I followed easily enough with the claw. What was left of the upper deck was slowly burning away but there was enough room for the three of us to stand together and look around.

"Over here!"

Through the smoke and flames we saw someone standing on a cliff face near the Dawn's beam. It was Lorena: Another rogue I had known since childhood. She used her bow to shoot the rigging of several crates that had yet to catch fire. When they spilled across the deck, they created a temporary path to the mainmast. It was still standing despite the barrage from the Watch.

We rushed through the path that was made for us and reached the mast just as an explosion below deck rocked the ship in the water. It tilted starboard at first, then leaned hard to port and crashed into the cliff face beneath Lorena's perch. The mainmast lodged into a series of jagged rocks several yards away from her—convenient for us if it weren't splintering under the strain.

My arms were practically yanked out of their sockets when the ship rocked back and forth. I used the claw to dig into the rope tied around the base of the mast and when the ship pitched right, I had to take hold of Six's forearm while he held Scribe by the waist. We dangled like a failed trapeze act, then were whipped against the mast when the ship crashed into the rocks. My grip was almost gone when Lorena shot a rope into the wood near us. Scribe and Six finally had something else to grab onto and I was able to use my arms for myself.

The wood groaned out its warning ahead of Lorena's call. "The mast is breaking! Run up now or you'll die!"

"Garrett! Take Scribe; I can't get a hand up with her like this!" Six-Fingers tried to push Scribe up but they were both dangling haphazardly from the embedded rope. The claw gave me a much firmer grip. I took hold of Scribe by her good arm and pulled her towards my back. As soon as she wrapped her arm and legs around me, I began working my way up the mast as quickly as possible.

There was no looking back—not until I reached the rocks and was clear of the breaking mast. I could hear the splintering wood behind me and used it as a motivator to climb faster. In my mind, Six-Fingers and I were almost home free. I had seen him get a good grip after I took Scribe off his hands. I even saw him pull the sawtooth arrow out of the mast and use it to help himself begin his climb. What I hadn't seen was just how bad the splintering actually was.

I cleared the leap between the top of the mast and Lorena's perch. Only after she helped Scribe and I up did I turn and see that Six had barely made it two-thirds of the way. The shuddering wood had knocked him off-balance. Before he could recover, the mast finally gave in to the rest of the ship's urge to tilt back in the other direction. Six flung sideways with the bottom two-thirds of the mainmast. We lost sight of him when the ship crashed into the water and rested on its side in the bay.

Six-Fingers cared for Scribe. I had known that about him since the days when we all stole bread to survive. He did everything to express that to her. I could never tell if her feelings were mutual back then—she was almost as good as I was at guarding her emotions. But the moment Six's body disappeared beneath the waves and wreckage, Scribe let out a blood-curdling cry of grief that could have only come from someone who new love... and now knew loss.

Lorena held Scribe close to offer her comfort and muffle her cries. The Baron's Watch was still in the bay arresting the people that remained. The smoke and flames provided a good veil but I could see through the haze that Accardi was still looking towards the water for signs of survivors. I made sure the others were aware, then we worked our way across the rocks to a section of broken bricks that created a gap in The City's wall, far away from the conflict.

* * *

><p>Under other circumstances we would have parted ways as soon as we re-entered The City. Unfortunately, Scribe was incapacitated by her grief and Lorena would not have made it through the streets carrying a figure over her shoulder. I traveled with her to keep an eye out for patrols. It was one of the longest journeys I had made in months.<p>

Lorena's hideout was an attic above one of many abandoned shops in Stonemarket. The inner stairwell had been sealed, leaving attic windows as the only identifiable way in or out. Lorena was noticeably tall but she somehow made slipping into a window look like an effortless bow. I helped her bring Scribe in and brought her to rest on the only bed in the attic. My day was done, yet I couldn't help but linger in the memory of what I had recently witnessed.

Lorena made sure that Scribe was comfortable before meeting me back on the rooftop. "Thank you for helping me get her back here, Garrett." We looked in the direction of the still-rising smoke. "She won't be able to manage by herself for a while but I'll keep her safe."

"I didn't realize that she and Six were that close," I admitted, which Lorena found amusing.

"I guess she wouldn't have told _you_. You two never seemed to get along very well." Her smile and voice became somber. "Scribe is carrying Six's child."

Her words struck me like a cold dagger to the gut. Scribe was pregnant? "She said I had saved more than _her_ life..." It must have been recent. She didn't look pregnant at all.

"Frankly, I wondered how they could stand to bring a child into this forsaken city." Lorena sighed. "But I was still happy for them. We don't get much happiness beyond what little we find in our work, do we?"

In her case, happiness was found in cold-blooded murder. It's why she took death in such strides. Lorena was an assassin by trade—one of the few I associated with in The City. Most of them were too eager and sloppy. She had discipline and a regard for human life, proven by her actions at the Dawn and her resolve to care for Scribe.

Clearly her regard for life was greater than that of the Thief-Taker General. The man who stood before me and feigned compassion. He had just lowered The City's population by dozens in a single act. No matter how much those in charge claim they're out to make change for the good, they always turn out to be no better than their predecessors.

"Accardi has to be dealt with," I decided as I moved to step away. Lorena took hold of my forearm.

"I'll come with you. Business has been slow and I could always use the exercise."

"I'm not going to kill him," I hissed and pulled away. She had an eager gleam in her eyes that I didn't like.

"Well you're not going to get rid of him any other way," she argued, "and since when did you suddenly become repulsed by the idea? Don't think I missed your arrow piercing the neck of that blacktop."

"_That_ was necessary."

"And this isn't?" She scoffed at my principles.

"It wouldn't resolve the issue." I looked through her open window and directly at Scribe. "Killing the Thief-Taker will only bring another. Who knows how much worse that one will be." Shaking my head, I turned to leave again. "Something else has to be done."

"Well let me know when you find out what that is." Lorena called in afterthought, "Or when you come to your senses."


	4. Diagnosis

**Part 4: Diagnosis**

I went to see Basso after I had slept, but I didn't find him in his office. He was hiding out in Madame Xiao-Xiao's territory like many of the well-known fences of The City. With the embargo on the black tax, anyone still dealing in illegal goods and services would find themselves swinging from the gallows if they were caught. Madame Xiao-Xiao happily took this opportunity to offer sanctuary to those in need, for a price.

A ruinous cavern beside the House of Blossoms became a new black market and it was thriving as much as its predecessor. If you wanted a stall, you had to pay the madame. If you wanted to buy something there, you had to pay the madame. Fortunately for me, there were so many ways in and around those ruins that I wouldn't have to worry about the entrance fee.

Basso had made a small office for himself using old planks propped against broken pillars. I couldn't sneak up on him but at least he was pleasantly surprised to see me.

"Hey, Garrett! Don't tell me they chased you underground too, eh?"

"No, I was just following the stench from your other office." I took a seat on the ornate stool he had borrowed from the House of Blossoms. "Have you heard back from Illyria yet?"

His smile nearly left his face. "Right down to business, eh? No time for a little back and forth?" My stare was his answer. "I heard what happened last night. About the abandoned ship being blown into the waves... Were you there for that?" Again, my eyes told him everything he needed to know. "Geez, Garrett... All those people... Sure, most of them were homeless leeches but who isn't nowadays?"

"I need to know what you learned about Accardi. I need to know how to put a stop to this."

Basso sighed and leaned back in his chair—another ornate loan from the House of Blossoms—then took a long drag from the pipe he kept on a chain. "Yeah, I heard back from Illyria." He shook his head and mumbled through the smoke. "Nothing real good or useful, though."

I wasn't leaving until he told me. I kept silent and waited for him to continue.

"Accardi came from the streets. He was desperate to feed his mother and sister, so he joined one of the gangs and did whatever they asked to make ends meet. Wasn't too fond of it, but what can you do in that situation, y'know?" Basso looked at his pipe as if it had lost its flavor. "From what I understand, a rival gang took out his mother and sister for payback or intimidation... My source wasn't really clear on that part. What he did know, though, is what came next."

He took another drag before he continued to talk. "Accardi snapped when his family was brutalized. His hatred for criminals reached its apex. The rumor is that he single-handedly brought down the rival gang, then turned on his own and wiped them from the streets of Illyria. With nothing to lose, he left a bloody trail that ultimately made the city streets a lot safer for the upstanding citizens."

"That's how he became a Thief-Taker."

"Not right away, no. He spent some time in Illyria's home for the criminally insane, but the public considered him a hero so he was released on the condition that he continued to work with a head-doctor to keep himself in check." Basso leaned across the large crate he was using as a desk. "Garrett, it was the doctor who recommended that Accardi become a Thief-Taker. He even helped him get all the credentials needed to start his career in Illyria."

"Then why was he allowed to leave there and come to The City," I wondered. "Did your contact find out anything about the doctor?"

"He didn't need to. We'll be able to do that part. Or rather, _you _will." Dust flew off the old crate when Basso dropped a newspaper between us. The headline was all I needed to see: Moira Asylum to Reopen Under New Management. Once again, the wealthy families pooled together their resources to fund a place to send their undesirables. This city never changes for the better.

"So his doctor is here..." The Thief-Taker's actions were starting to make sense, though that still left an even bigger question to answer. "I hope your boat is out by the docks because I'll need to use it."

"Whoa-ho-ho! We're not gonna be able to row casually over there this time." Basso put away the newspaper and worked on swapping out the tobacco in his pipe. "There's a whole army there right now. They've been sent to clean up whoever or _whatever_ was lurking there after the riot. They're keeping an eye on the place while it's being refurbished."

His reluctance was irritating. "If there's an army there, then they have to be using some kind of boat to get them back and forth. I'll just have to catch a ride on that."

"Garrett, I'm not tryin' to underestimate you, but you are gonna get yourself killed if you go in that direction. We should just find out where this doctor lives and see if there's anything we can hold over his head to get things back to normal."

I wasn't above blackmail, but I still felt that the answer to all of this required a visit to Moira. Another time. I wanted to get to know this doctor, and if they were still renovating the asylum, chances were that he would be settling into his new home. "I'll let you know what I find out."

* * *

><p>Dayport had only recently regained life. After the riots had chased much of the affluent away, it took months for the Baron's Watch to clear out all of the looters and squatters that wanted a taste of the so-called good life. To this day, security roamed the streets like dogs looking for anything to attack. I wasn't too worried about them. Those dogs were still too stupid to lift their heads and sniff the air.<p>

The papers described Doctor Jordan Sarto as a true visionary in mental and physical health. It said that his arrival would herald a new age of wellness for The City. It also said that he had taken a reprieve from all his good work in Illyria to re-establish Moira, as if it would be a vacation for him. If he had seen the things I had there, he would know better than to consider the asylum something to visit on a sabbatical.

The doctor's manor stood out behind the brick and wrought iron fence that surrounded its grounds. His possessions were still being brought in at sundown and I had no trouble slipping past the servants while they struggled with a davenport. There were many decorative bushes to stand behind while the parade of furnishings went towards the front door. I worked my way towards a greenhouse that was attached to the manor's west wing. I almost made it without being detected but a very curious puppy saw me and wanted to make friends.

It was an unusually small dog with long fur that resembled a wig. I had never seen a dog like it before. Whatever breed it was, the pup definitely knew I had something for it. The tiniest paw tapped at a pouch on my right hip. A little smoked meat soaked in a tranquilizer was the perfect treat to keep such a friendly dog from following me around.

I gave the dog a pat on the neck—relieving it of its jeweled collar in the process—then skipped the treat across the yard. Once it ran away, I scaled the shaded side of the greenhouse and tipped along its iron beams to reach the window on the second level. It was sealed shut from the inside. Other windows were above me and I easily made it onto the roof of the first level with the use of Erin's claw.

Erin... Something made me think of her just then. I never really thought of her when I used the claw, though I still considered it hers.

As I worked my way towards the next window, a twinge hit me in the back of my head. I had felt it before, when Erin sent those visions that lead me to her. Was she reaching out to me again? That couldn't be possible. The ritual removed the primal.

I waited near the window for the feeling to subside. A woman was yelling beyond the curtains. Probably the mistress of the house laying into a servant.

"You impulsive fool! Look at all of the waste you have created!"

"But I did just as you said..." That wasn't a servant. There was no mistaking Accardi's accent, though his voice detracted from the confidence it usually carried. He sounded like a child berated by his mother.

"I told you to flush out the criminals, not drown them like rats in the sea."

"But Doctor—"

Doctor? He was speaking to a woman. A sliver of space between the curtains gave me a brief view of the Thief-Taker but I couldn't see who he was talking to yet. I had to be satisfied with listening for now.

"But Doctor, we pulled many of them from the waves and put them in irons. The ordeal weakened a lot of them, making the arrest that much easier."

"You attacked that ship as if you had no intention of making an arrest." The woman spoke in a dangerously calm tone. Accardi's authoritative posture had all but disappeared as he listened. "What's more, your actions afforded many of the skilled criminals a chance to escape. The petty criminals will have their uses but I _need_ the unique and exceptional specimens for the plans to come."

He stood up straight as a feminine hand reached forward to caress his chin. Finally, I was able to get a glimpse of the woman he was speaking to. She was dressed in the finest imported fashions from Illyria, but her light complexion and auburn hair suggested a different origin. Then I reflected on the name from the article and it all made sense. Jordan was not an Illyrian first name. Doctor Jordan Sarto was a _woman_.

Maybe things were different in Illyria for women who wanted to practice medicine. The paper had referred to her as a man, but that could have been an error. Or a cover-up. We only knew female nurses in The City. Would a female doctor be so different from that? My mind filled with questions that kept me focused on the conversation for possible answers.

"You couldn't possibly imagine the opportunity I sense here, Francesco. For your healing and this city's. A power lingers here. It's in those beasts they found in the depths of the asylum and the ones that roam the sewers."

She knew about the Gloomlurkers in the asylum. Suddenly the Thief-Taker became the least of my concerns. No one with good intentions could want to have anything to do with those monsters.

I wanted to hear more but that twinge returned and caused my ears to ring. I recovered quickly but not quick enough to avoid the curtains being drawn back by Doctor Sarto herself. She looked pleasantly surprised to see me shaking off a momentary episode of vertigo.

"You... You're the source of the power I was sensing near me."

I saluted the good doctor and turned to run. By the time the Thief-Taker came through the window to give chase, I had already dropped down from the roof and hidden myself in the topiary that surrounded a small pond. Aristocrats were too fond of landscaping and that made it all too easy to get around their property undetected.

Or so I thought. The doctor must have done what she had before to cause my head to hurt. I nearly stumbled out of hiding. In dropping to one knee, I found the formerly playful pup asleep beneath the bushes close to me. That walking wig was going to be useful to me after all.

A light toss sent the dog rolling into a distance bush. The Thief-Taker went after the flash of movement just as I knew he would. By the time he would finish examining the doctor's pet, I would already be out of the yard and working my way along the rooftops of Dayport.

* * *

><p>I didn't intend to stop moving until I made it out of the district. My head was pounding so much, I nearly misjudged a leap from one balcony to the next. It wasn't until I pulled myself up onto the roof of a house that I discovered something else had been done to me. A dart was embedded in the leather just below my left ribs. I spun around to see where it could have come from but by then, my vision was losing more and more of its focus.<p>

"Be at ease, Master Thief." I could still recognize Accardi's voice even though it seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "The tranquilizer will put you in the best sleep you have had in a long time."

I had to keep going. He could have taken hold of me but he must have been waiting for me to fall. I reached the edge of the roof and could barely make out the next building. I tried to focus. A cart was coming down the street. I could hear its wheels turning when I focused on my surroundings. I could also tell which direction the Thief-Taker came from. I knocked his hand away before he could grab my cloak and he punched me in the kidney for my trouble. I should have retaliated but I knew a real fight would have worked the drug through my system faster. I used the momentum of his blow to carry me off the edge of the building in what could have been a fall to my death. Fortunately, the cart was there and I landed roughly in a thin pile of unwashed bed linens.

There was no time to think about the pain. The drug was already draining the feeling away from my limbs. I rolled sideways out of the cart and made it into a dark alley behind the very house I'd fallen from. I could hear the Thief-Taker yelling to the men who pulled the cart to stop and wait for him. By then, I had dropped to my knees and planned to crawl as far as I could—until my hand fell against my saving grace. With every ounce of willpower I had left, I worked a small grate open and dragged myself into the space beyond. There was barely enough room for me to turn around and rest against the wall I came in. I wanted to listen for Accardi's departure but the drug had finally become too much to resist. The world was black before I knew it and all I could hear was the sound of my breath.


	5. A Long Walk at Night

**Part 5: A Long Walk at Night**

I did have the best sleep of my life. When I finally woke up, the sun was setting on another day. I was still laying where I had hidden, which turned out to be on top of a few crates obscured by even taller ones in the back of a cellar. I also had an interesting new accessory: A child-sized blanket, spun out of fine wool and embroidered with gold patterns.

I heard the cellar door open and started to move. A sharp pain shot up my left arm when I tried to put any weight on it. My back still ached where I was punched, but that was nothing compared to the pain in my ribs.

A shadow danced along the wall after a candle was lit. It turned out to be much taller than its source: A girl with rose-colored cheeks who looked as if she'd never known a day of hunger in her life. She couldn't have been ten years old and smiled all too eagerly at what was literally a stranger in her house. I had seen girls just like her disappear from their homes only to turn up in the Skinmarket, or worse.

"Hello, Mister Blue-Eye!"

"Blue-Eye?"

"You were really sleepy, so I gave you my blanket to keep you warm. Here." She held out a plate of wheat bread and a small goblet of milk. The goblet was silver and pressed with gems. "You must be hungry. I'm always hungry when I wake up."

I took the goblet first and poured the milk over the side of the crate. Then I looked at my face with its polished surface. My right eye _was_ blue again... Glowing in the shadow of my current roost. I had checked myself several times after the incident with the primal stone and saw the discoloration had gone. How was this happening to me again?

I tucked the goblet into one of my pouches, then reached beyond the plate of bread and delicately removed a ruby bracelet from the child's wrist. She looked confused until I explained, "I don't really eat food. I eat gems and other things that sparkle in the moonlight."

"Oh. My mummy has a lot of that in her bedroom. I wonder if the maid also eats gems because she sometimes takes them when she thinks no one's looking."

I had to smirk at that.

"Want me to get some for you?"

I nodded quietly with no real intention to take what the child had to offer. I just wanted her to go away so I could leave without inadvertently adopting a travel companion.

She responded with an eager nod and skipped off to find more appropriate food for her new imaginary friend. I hoped she enjoyed the imaginary version of me, because I wasn't going to be there when she returned.

As I crawled past the grate, I discovered a new pain in my left leg. I must have landed harder than I remembered when I fell off the roof. I wasn't going to make it back to the clock tower like this. I had to get to Maurus. If he could at least get me to the point where I could climb again, I could rest at home for a while.

Every step hurt more than the last and around each corner, there seemed to be a member of the Baron's Watch out on patrol. The Thief-Taker must have suspected that I was still in the area. I started to think about heading back to the girl's basement and pretending to be imaginary for a few more days. Then someone came up to me from behind and draped a burlap cloak around my shoulders.

The Queen of Beggars made another one of her convenient appearances. I didn't bother to ask how she found me; I just took her by the arm and walked as slowly and carefully as I could with her.

"Pull your hood tight, dear," she said a little too loudly for my comfort. "It's cold out this evening, and two elderly people limping through the streets should stay as warm as possible."

The act worked unexpectedly well. When the patrols saw the Queen of Beggars they seemed to think nothing of another figure hobbling along beside her. As far as they were concerned, we were two harmless elders making our way out of Dayport.

"That was very timely of you," I muttered.

"When The City aches, I move along its streets to learn from where the pain radiates."

"And what have you learned," I asked knowing full well that she knew more than she was willing to tell me.

"An old wound is being reopened. One that _you_ mended not long ago, if I recall."

"I didn't do what I did for The City."

"But it had an impact nonetheless, and all too quickly those who would undo the good health of this city have emerged from distant lands."

I chuffed and held my side. Breathing became painful. "This city doesn't have good health. It barely has a pulse."

"It is a vibrant creature with a strength to survive in the harshest environments. Much like a young boy I once knew who grew up under less than ideal conditions."

I wanted to pull away from her whenever she started down that verbal road; in fact, I tried to out of habit, but a twinge shot up my leg and forced me to recoil in her direction. She seemed to find it funny.

"We are quite a pair. A blind woman and her crippled companion. If a mugger were to take advantage of the situation, I wonder what the end result would be."

"I have a feeling they would regret it." We didn't say much else to each other on the way to Black Alley. The conversation we needed to have couldn't be said where any random ear could listen in. Still, the timeliness of the Queen's presence told me most of what I needed to know. Whatever Doctor Sarto was planning, it was not for the good of The City.


	6. Noticeable Changes

**Part 6: Noticeable Changes**

Bedrest. Possibly the one thing in the world I hated more than Basso's cologne. My ankle was sprained and my leg had been dislocated. Hurt like hell to pop it back into place. My wrist was also sprained and Maurus said I was lucky it wasn't broken, especially since a few of my ribs were. The Master Thief was officially on forced leave.

I used the downtime to make a couple minor adjustments to the clock tower. There were smaller gears in the machinery that needed to be replaced. I also had to refine one of my alternate entrances so that I could run errands while I recovered. I took it as easy as I could over the next six weeks, but doing nothing would have been worse than trying to go about my normal routine.

I had hoped that by laying low for so long, the Thief-Taker would have given up his chase. From what I heard, the Baron's Watch went on the offensive and uprooted a number of criminal hideouts. A lot of good talent was named in the paper on their way to Moira Asylum. No one even tried to search the clock tower, so I counted myself among the fortunate.

I checked my eye several times to make sure the lingering effects of the primal were gone. I'm not sure what that doctor did while I was at her home, but at least it didn't have far-reaching effects. If she had her own primal power, that was worrisome, but not as much as the fact that there might be some still within me. If that ritual hadn't pulled all the power out of me, how well could it have worked on Erin?

* * *

><p>I went to see Basso and found him back at his main office. Good for me, because I was in the mood to sneak up on someone.<p>

"Fuck, Garrett!" He nearly fell into the crate he was rooting around in when he found me standing behind him. "Where the hell have you been? At least you weren't gone as long as the last time, but I coulda used you for a few jobs."

"I'm here now."

"And it's a good thing, too. A lot of the professionals have been hauled off to Moira." Basso held out his elbow and whistled. To my surprise, Rumor crawled out from overtop a bookshelf and landed on his shoulder. "I even got desperate and gave a job to Scribe. Now she's just another inmate, poor girl."

"You _what?_" I looked at him as if I were looking at a complete stranger. "She's pregnant!"

"I know, I know. I didn't want to, but she kept nagging me and I really needed someone to pull off a job." At the very least, he sounded guilty over what happened. "I know it doesn't make up for it, but I'm gonna take care of her bird while she's gone. Rumor's no Jenivere, but at least my fingers aren't bloody."

I thought about the situation for a moment. "Wait. Lorena took Scribe in. What happened to her?"

Basso shook his head. "She was one of the first, Garrett. A lot of the assassins were. The Watch baited much of the talent by giving the fences false jobs. Most of them sounded too good to be true so I skipped out on a lot, but you know how some of the others are. Too greedy for their own good." He laughed bitterly and added, "But hey, the black tax is back and it's cheaper than ever. After all, they gotta keep the fences in business to help catch the rest of the working class."

If the fences were being supplied with fake jobs, none of them could be trusted to give out real ones. After what he told me had happened to Scribe, I barely trusted Basso. It wasn't entirely his fault but if he didn't know which jobs were a setup, there was no use wasting my time in his office. I turned to leave.

"Hey, Garrett, where you goin'? You just got here!" He rushed up behind me and I stopped, but only because Rumor took that opportunity to fly to my shoulder. "Come on, man, I got a couple things that really need doing, y'know?"

"Too risky." I passed the bird back to him. "I'll see what I can find on my own. Bring you back what I can." Just because his jobs weren't trustworthy didn't mean I couldn't do business with him entirely. I could tell Basso was relieved to hear that from me when he shot back his response.

"Well don't take too long, okay? I'm on my last drops of booze and squirts of cologne."

"I think the dockfrocks will thank me if I take my time." I didn't smirk directly at him but I'm sure he knew the sentiment was there.

* * *

><p>I should have been glad to hear that so much of my competition was out of the way. Desperate times like these always put my skills at a premium. Running the Thieves' Highway told me just how sparse the playing field was. On any given night, I could usually see a handful of professionals and twice as many amateurs making their mark. As I worked my way towards Riverside, I only caught a glimpse of <em>two<em> amateurs. Did the Watch finally manage to scare enough criminals into hiding, or had there really been that many arrests? I always preferred to travel alone but not seeing any of the usual blackhands and thugs on my route was disturbing.

All of those feelings dissolved while I concentrated on the safe in a butcher's cellar. There were too many other things I had to distract me, like a torn half of a mule hanging out from under a tarp, or the foul juices that drained from a nearby barrel into a small hole in the center of the floor. Breathing through my mask didn't help at all with the intensity of the smell. The time I spent in the cesspool would be worth it, though, once I popped open the safe.

The butcher had an antique ring filled with black and white pearls, a gold bracelet with sapphires set in an intricate pattern, and a stack of bonds. There was also a donkey's tooth in the safe, but it wasn't covered in gold. I looked it over curiously before dropping it into the drain.

A grunt echoed up from wherever the tooth had landed.

I turned and looked at the drain. There was another sound that came after the grunt: Voracious drinking. It was nearly hidden by the sound of liquid pouring down the pipe, but the slurping echoed upwards like a grateful response to the rancid feast.

I knelt down to take a closer look. It was too dark to see exactly what was there at first, then a pair of lights shined up from the darkness. Not lights. _Eyes_. They looked right at me and the slurping stopped. An inhuman sound reverberated up the drain and raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Then the eyes were gone. It sounded like the Gloomlurker was running through the sewers. I didn't need to go down there, so I left my curiosity over that moment in the butcher's shop.

Overall, I had a pretty successful night. I took a few more items from the butcher and hit a few more shops in the area for good measure. I also stuck to the rooftops for travel. No need to run into any Gloomers if I didn't have to.

* * *

><p>I dropped the goods off with Basso and made my way back to the clock tower. Just as I entered the plaza, I was stopped by the feeling of being watched. I didn't see anyone but the usual vagrants and patrols and they certainly hadn't seen me. My suspicions were still raised, which meant I couldn't go home. I moved away from the plaza and weaved through several of the darker passages of the Thieves' Highway to shake my unseen observer.<p>

I was near Stonecutter's Court when the feeling finally went away. I stopped to take a look around but wasn't relaxed yet. Whoever was following me had done a good job of staying hidden so far but I expected them to show themselves eventually.

The next time I turned, I found myself face-to-face with a Gloomlurker. How it had gotten so close without my knowing was beyond me but I quickly put a few yards' distance between us. Before I could leave the roof, two more climbed over the edge and forced me back in the direction I came. They were joined by one on each side of the building: A gathering of five that circled around me.

Reaching for the claw angered them but when I held up my hands they seemed to stay calm. That gave me time to notice a few things about them. They weren't like the Gloomers I ran into while chasing after Erin. They were clothed, as if they had never shed the garments of their former selves. The first one that snuck up on me was even wearing a black bodysuit with leather armor that had been purposefully crafted for its frame. It was taller than the others; in fact, it had to loom forward several inches to be at eye level with me. What's more, it didn't have the same amount of fingers as the others. The smaller Gloomlurkers had all five fingers on each hand, but this one only had a thumb, index and middle finger. Just like—

"_Six?_" The more I studied his armor, the more I recognized pieces from Six-Fingers' gear. He had always been particularly lanky and some of his leather was molded specifically to fit him. Somehow he had survived the destruction of the Dawn's Light and ended up like _this_.

His eye sockets burned with blue light from the primal energy that had transformed him. At first he seemed to study me quietly. Then his eyes turned red and he grabbed me by the neck without warning. His inhuman speed kept me from dodging his reach. I tried to pull away but his four followers each latched onto one of my limbs and kept me still. _Shit._ I was not prepared to die after such an average night of stealing.

"Six... Your name is Six-Fingers." I could barely breath. "One of the best pickpockets in The City. You steal food to help the beggars in the graveyard... and you're in love with Scribe, who is pregnant with your _child!_"

Suddenly I could breathe again. A jagged mouth had parted his otherwise featureless face but when he heard my words, his maw gradually sealed. The flames in his eyes turned blue. The other Gloomers kept their hold on me so I was forced to remain still, but at least I had made some progress.

"Do you remember me? It's Garrett. I saved Scribe's life. Twice."

I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of recognition behind the fire in his eyes. It quickly went away when he looked to the southeast. The others did as well, as if they were hearing something that I couldn't. All at once, the Gloomers let go of me and went back the way they came down the side of the building. I watched them leave and when I turned to look for Six, he was gone. They left no trail and I almost thought I had dreamed the whole event. It was pretty hard to dream up the bruises that were around my neck, though, and the claw marks from where the Gloomers had clung a little too sharply to my arms and legs.

I had to see the Queen of Beggars. I needed answers.

* * *

><p>"How nice of you to visit, Garrett." Her greeting echoed through the old church before I revealed myself. "Come, sit. I'm sure you've had a long night."<p>

I kept my distance. "I need to know what's going on and not in your cryptic way."

"You sound stressed." She could probably hear me pacing the floor. "Come. Have a seat. Share a cup of tea with an old woman." She poured a cup like she always does and added a spoonful of sugar as if that would encourage me to accept it.

"_I need answers!_" I was stressed but tea wasn't going to help. Only knowledge.

The Queen of Beggars wasn't the least bit bothered by my tone. She kept a hand on the cup she prepared for me and gestured to the stool on the other side of her table. "Garret, I know for a fact that although you have taken the cup from my hands many times, you have never once drank tea with me." The calm firmness in her tone shot down the tension in my spine. "Now come. Sit. Drink. Once you have done that, I will tell you what you want to know."

I sighed away more of the tension I felt. I didn't realize how much that encounter with the Gloomlurkers had affected me. I shouldn't have been so quick to run to the Queen of Beggars. I should have gone home, slept it off, then moved on.

But I was here and there was a lot I needed to know. I settled on the stool and took the cup from her hands like I had done so many times before. This time, I brought it up to my face, breathed in the warmth, then took a sip. It wasn't bad.

She smiled with her dead eyes turned in my direction as if she could see my actions. "You aren't made weaker by accepting the help of others every once in a while. I would have thought our walk several weeks ago taught you that."

I took another sip and looked around. There was something different about the old church. "Your congregation's gotten smaller." Now that I thought about it, I had only seen one beggar when I entered the graveyard. Usually there were at least five to seven lurking around.

"Several of them have been taken for one reason or another. Theft. Loitering. Being a beggar. The Gloom may have passed but these are dark times nonetheless."

I shook my head and drank more tea. It was calming, I'll give it that. "I was there when the Dawn's Light was destroyed. I saw Six-Fingers buried under the wreckage. At the very least, he should have drowned, trapped under the ship's mast. But I saw him tonight. He's become one of the Gloomlurkers."

"Not of his own will."

"He could have killed me but he didn't. I managed to talk him out of it. I reminded him of who he was." Thoughtfully, I drained the cup of its last drops. "Could there really be something human left in the Gloomers?"

"Humanity does not leave us in times of inhuman action. If anything, it is revealed even moreso." A typical answer for her.

"If he is still there, how do I get him out."

She took my cup and stirred its dregs with her finger. Then she held the cup in both hands and turned her eyes to it as if she could see its contents. I had no doubt in my mind that she was seeing something other than the leaves at the bottom.

"You must return to where the truth was fully revealed to you, Garrett. More truth awaits, but I fear this time it will be more devastating than the last."

I shook my head at her. "I wasn't devastated when I found out what happened to Erin. I was determined to do something about it."

"You will need to be that again."

"Why? Is she involved?" I rose from my seat. "Was she taken back to Moira?"

The Queen of Beggars set aside the teacup. "The girl is not involved, Garrett. She has not lived in this city since you rescued her."

I was relieved and disappointed to hear that. In my spare time I had tried to find Erin to make sure she was all right and help her make sense of what happened. Knowing that the primal energy had resurfaced in me also gave me concerns about the power that might have still been within her. If she was no longer in The City, that question was going to go unanswered.

"But if Erin isn't here, then what's causing the Gloomers to appear?"

"You know where to find that answer; in fact, you've known for a while." The Queen of Beggars moved to stand and I felt compelled to help her steady herself. There were no beggars in her court to take on the task. "Rest yourself before you seek your answers, Garrett, and as you learn the truth, do not forget who you are."

For a moment, I watched her walk away before I turned to do the same. The sun had risen on a new day and I was tired from the night. It was time to return to the clock tower, but I already knew where my next night would take me.


	7. The Trip of a Lifetime

**Part 7: The Trip of a Lifetime**

The docks were seeing more activity than they had in months. It seemed the Baron's Watch had secured a port for prisoner transfer to Moira Asylum. They were using a large ferryboat to transport people and supplies to the island. A few of the prisoners had to be caged like cargo, while others were shackled together and walked in a line. I could only wonder how much of the city's population they planned to get rid of in this way.

The next ferry was leaving soon and I intended to catch a ride. The Watch guards were being pretty active but the distraction I needed was easy to find. There was a boy at the end of the chain gang who couldn't have been much older than I was when I started my career. It would have been a waste of true potential to let him board that boat.

"You're a little far from home." I whispered to him from the shade of a tall crate that the procession stood near. His eyes were fearful when he turned to look at me but that was more from his current situation.

"I'm going to give you a do-over but you had better not waste it." I gestured for him with a lockpick in hand. He inched closer to me but did the smart thing and kept his eyes on his surroundings.

I popped the lock on his cuffs and pointed across the pier. "_Run_." He took off like a shot and by the time the guards saw him, he had already climbed several crates and made his way up to the balcony of a fish market. Definitely a lot of potential there.

While some of the guards chased after the boy, the rest were occupied with keeping the prisoners from acting out. I took that opportunity to slip on board and hide among the cargo. When the ferry disembarked, the guards stayed mainly with the passengers and I was free to move discreetly around the boat. By the time it arrived at the dock of the island, I had moved to the roof and flattened myself out to wait for the most opportune time to disembark.

Moira Asylum barely looked different form the last time I was there. All the wreckage was cleared away but the grounds hadn't been landscaped. I guess if the good, upstanding citizens didn't have a need to visit, there was no point in redecorating for the ones who would never leave.

I couldn't go in through the front door this time; instead, I crept the grounds until I found an air duct on the west wing. It took me to a dining hall which turned out to be in decent shape. At least they were feeding the inmates. I knew I was near the women's ward because I could hear the wailing of a few female prisoners.

I hid in the walk-in pantry when the head chef and her assistant came in. They were talking about one of the prisoners. "We're going to have to make the sloop real thin again so the nurses can spoon more down Preggers' throat. She's still refusin' to eat. That poor babe won't have a chance with a mum that stubborn."

"I get the feeling that the Missus isn't going to let her be a mum at all. She'll probably be sent to the basement with the others after she's given birth."

"Missus. Don't you mean 'Doctor?' Now there's somethin' new for you. Wonder if her husband tends the house while she's away."

"I wouldn't trust mine to it... If I had one. Be right back, I got to run this over to the office."

The assistant was left alone to prepare food. She certainly wasn't expecting to see me when she opened the pantry. I put a hand over her mouth before she could scream and held an arrowhead close to her throat. "Scream and I'll push this through your neck."

"Wh-what do you want from me? I don't have any money!"

"I want to know where Doctor Sarto is."

"I-in the basement, most likely. She goes down there to check on the prisoners too unruly to keep up top."

That wasn't all I wanted to know. "Preggers. Is she a small woman with brown hair and hazel eyes?"

The cook nodded rapidly. "In room six. Kept strapped down, for the good of the baby."

"Thanks." I put away the arrow. The second she relaxed, I spun her around and knocked her on the back of the head. There was plenty of room in the pantry to leave her tied up behind the sacks of potatoes and rice.

I slipped past the room's revolving door, stepping out just as the head chef went in the other side. Most of the ward's personnel must have been up front taking in the new inmates. The only guard I saw was reclining in the office. I pulled myself onto the wide top molding that ran along the walls like a long shelf. It made for a convenient place to creep, especially with the shadows caused by the depth of the ceiling. Each room had a barred window above that molding and I moved along quickly until I found the one above Scribe's room door.

She was strapped to her bed just as the cook described. Food stains from the times she resisted feeding were all over the front of the gown they put her in. Her belly's bulge was far more obvious as well. I couldn't take her with me but I knew there was one thing I could do to make her situation better.

"_Scribe!_"

She looked up and saw me through the iron bars. "Garrett! Garrett, oh gods, get me out of here!"

"_I will, I promise, but it's going to take some time._"

She struggled in her straps and tears ran down her face. "I can't have my baby here, Garrett. They're going to take it away from me. It's the only thing I have left of Six..."

I sighed while she sobbed. "_Listen to me. I'm going to get you out of here, but I need you to be patient. You're also going to have to start cooperating so they will let you out of those straps. Eat. Get your strength back, for you and the baby. I'll make sure you get out of here, but you have to put yourself in the position to be rescued, got it?_"

Her sobbing went away gradually as she focused on my words. Once I was done talking, she nodded quietly and relaxed. "What... What're you doing here?"

"_What I always do_," I whispered casually. I certainly couldn't tell her about the Gloomers, or that Six was one of them. "_I'll come back for you when I can. Do as I said, okay?_"

Scribe had hope now, which is exactly what she needed in this place. I could tell by looking at her that she still had several months before she would give birth. If the cooks' gossip was to be believed, I would have plenty of time before the staff at Moira would do much more than keep her in the women's ward. I meant to keep that promise to come back for her someday but for now, I had another reason for lurking around the asylum grounds.

* * *

><p>I worked my way down the women's ward elevator shaft and found another duct to enter. This one filtered air to the lower levels. Not a whole lot had changed there from what I had seen before. There <em>were<em> more torches to light up the area and I was pretty certain I knew why. I could hear them on the second level of the prison sector: Snarling from the cells that were kept dark for their comfort. The guards that walked the hallway moved single-file down the center to avoid the adventurous claws that tested their reach. Each Gloomlurker that tried to grab a guard learned that light would burn them. They seemed to forget it just as quickly and try again. They were so mindless, I had to wonder if I imagined the intelligence I saw in Six's eyes.

There were more Gloomers on the third level but they were different somehow. Their sounds were more passive and none of them made any effort to reach out for the guards. A few had their arms draped out of the small window on their doors. The intense lamp light had no effect on them. A different breed, it seemed, but where were they coming from?

I watched Doctor Sarto enter the third level from the main elevator. I was hidden in an air duct near the start of the hallway. Funny, she wasn't dressed like a doctor at all. Her dark blue dress and jewelry suggested that she was heading to an important engagement rather than making the rounds to check on violent inmates. My eyes were especially drawn to a large tourmaline set in gold wire netting and draped from a thin neck chain. A fine piece. She was definitely going to part with it after I got some much-needed answers.

The doctor waved away the guards as she traveled the hall. "Leave me. See if they need any help upstairs." Once she thought she was alone, she took the hand of a Gloomlurker who was reaching out beyond its cell. Interesting. The Gloomer held her hand as if it were comforted by her.

"My perfect angels." She looked at the cell doors with admiration. "Your numbers are growing and soon you will be ready." Sarto went back to the elevator and used it to reach the last level. I had to step out of the duct and use the stairs around the shaft to follow her, but there were enough shadows to keep me concealed while I kept on her trail.

The bottom level of the prison had a wide central area where eight prisoners stood in chains. They were shackled by their wrists to wooden beams that were fixed into the concrete. One of the beams looked like it had been recently repaired. That must have been why the prisoners moved sluggishly, as if they had been drugged. The larger room was surrounded by corridors that hid additional cells not in use. I moved along one of the corridors to get a better view of the doctor's actions.

Sarto stepped into the center of the open space, walking over a circular pit that was covered by a grate. She moved calmly across the iron despite several claws reaching up to try and grab her ankles. There were Gloomers in the pit below her and unlike the ones on the third level, these were not happy to see her.

She made it to the safety of a wide iron disc in the middle of grate, though I had a feeling she wasn't ever in any danger. Then the heavy door that we came in closed on its own. Unexpected. I looked for an alternate escape route just in case.

"You are all very privileged to be a part of my plan for this city."

I watched the doctor for the most part but I also kept looking for another way out.

"Not too long ago, I sensed that a great opportunity was unleashed here. Sadly, my husband lacked such vision. He never wanted to leave the comfort of Illyria, which is why his bones are now buried there, rest his soul."

She didn't sound very regretful over that fact. "Beneath my feet are the products of the power that drew me here." Sarto had my full attention then. I watched as she gestured to the Gloomers in the pit. "They're so imperfect... so unrefined. Crafted by someone who lacked the control to truly mold them into something special."

Her eyes burned with a blue flame similar to what burned in the Gloomers'. The tourmaline that hung from her neck also burned as it floated in front of her. She was a _witch_, not a doctor, and I needed to get out fast. I resumed my search for an exit but was caught in a sudden feeling of vertigo. When I looked at Sarto again, her feet were several inches off the ground.

She spoke in a language I didn't understand and the tourmaline lifted from its trapping to float above her. It lit the room with a bright flash and the Gloomers were instantly vaporized, even in the darkness of the pit. But their ashes didn't disintegrate; instead, they drew upwards through the grate and were drawn into the witch through her mouth and nose.

I had dropped to my hands and knees when the gem expelled its light and my head felt extremely heavy. What was happening to me? I crawled as far back into the corridor as I could before my whole body became too listless to do anything but lean against a wall.

I could still see Sarto from where I was. She had held in the breath that drew in the Gloomlurkers' ashes, but now she exhaled and released those ashes in eight directions: Towards each prisoner. They couldn't stop it from entering their bodies the same way it had entered hers. Each one struggled in their bonds while the witch landed and continued her ritual.

"Become perfection, my angels," were the last words I heard before my head was gripped with pain. I knew she was transforming the prisoners into Gloomlurkers, but why was _I_ feeling this way? I hadn't breathed in the ash that she forced into the lungs of the others.

The pain in my head spread to the rest of my body. It was getting so I couldn't breathe. I had to regain control—

"The primal energy within you called you home to me..." Sarto was standing over me with a motherly smile on her face. I was strangely comforted by it. _I didn't want to be comforted by it._ A surge of pain reminded me of the danger I was in and forced me to concentrate on trying to stand.

"I sensed your power and wanted to take it from you to increase my own." She reached a hand towards me but I managed to inch away. "Now, I think I shall leave it within you, and let you become the most perfected of my perfect creations."

Sarto reached towards me again and I swiped my hand up to knock hers away. It wasn't my hand. _There were claws where my fingers should have been_. I couldn't stop the panic after that. I was more than scared, I was _terrified_. I couldn't control the feeling and that frightened me even more. I was changing. _I couldn't resist it_. I tried to cry out by _my mouth was no longer there_. How was she doing this to me? The primal energy was supposed to have been purged when Orion's ring touched the book!

My senses began to change. I was seeing things I didn't know were there. Everything had a vibration that tried to steal my attention. I could hear each chain rattle from the Gloomlurkers that yearned to be free. The reverberation of Sarto's laughter called my attention back in her direction. I couldn't see her anymore but I could see the primal energy that pulsated within her. It was beautiful. Alluring. Why was I so attracted to it? I managed to work myself to my feet but for my own sake, I could not move from her immediate reach.

"You are more beautiful than I could have imagined." Her words were comforting me again. I was both soothed and frightened by it. I had to regain control. She said not to forget who I was... Who was _she?_ Who was I? I knew the answers but they were becoming harder to make out by the second. I had to get away from the comfort. Away from the beauty. I couldn't see the world anymore. I could only see its vibrations and energies, and the one that demanded the most attention from me was _hers_.

"Why don't we lose that silly cloak and let your new perfection be seen by the world?" She was reaching for my hood when I sensed the answer: A rat scratching at a duct high in the wall behind me. I stopped resisting the fear and let its adrenaline push me out of the witch's reach. I didn't think twice about reaching the duct—I scaled the wall effortlessly and pulled the grate away as if it had been paper. All I could think about was escape and putting distance between myself and the witch.


	8. And I Must Scream

**Part 8: And I Must Scream**

I didn't know where I was going. Up was safety. Freedom. I couldn't see where I was going but I could _feel_ it. Everything had a pulse. The vibration from my hands told me where I was crawling. I had to keep going—No. There were more vibrations happening nearby. I had to know what they were.

_No, keep going._

But the vibrations were drawing me in. I had to know what was causing them. I found a turn, then a dead-end. A wall? A grate.

_If you can remember what a grate is you can remember who you are!_

Trying to remember was frustrating. The movements beyond the grate were even more frustrating. There were too many of them going in different directions. Why were they trying to confuse me? I needed to stop it—

_No. It's not their fault. They're people. Remember PEOPLE._

But their energy was so offensive... It radiated from their chests in different rhythms. It was an insult to the beauty I had known before.

_No. That wasn't beauty. That was a trap. I have to keep going up. UP._

I made a sound. It stopped the vibrations beyond the dead-end but I had to move on. The air was getting colder. Good. Cold air meant freedom.

Another dead end?

_No. GRATE. I can't forget that!_

It pushed so easily and my reward was more cold air. Freedom. Open spaces. I was... Outside?

_Yes! That's what this is called._

I had gone up. I had found freedom. But what now? What was I supposed I do?

More vibrations. _Footsteps. They're called footsteps._ They came from nearby. A people. _Person._ The person had terrible energy... I had to do something about it. I rushed towards the foulness.

_What was I doing? I didn't need to approach that person. I found freedom. I needed to concentrate on that._

But his vibrations were _so_ aggravating.

_Footsteps. They are footsteps. I have to remember that!_

The person made a noise. Had he seen me? I couldn't understand what his noises meant. I needed to stop his noise. His foul energy. I caught up to it—reached out for it. Right for his throat.

_I remember what a throat is._

His energy was on my fingers now but it was fading. The noise eventually stopped. He wasn't going to aggravate me anymore.

_What have I done?_

I had ended the frustration.

_NO. I had KILLED a PERSON for no reason. Remember kill... Remember not to kill... Not without reason. Who do you think you are?_

"Garrett."

That voice was familiar to me. The word it spoke—She spoke.

"Over here, Garrett."

I moved forward, but to where? The voice kept calling me. I knew the person. The girl. The—

_Erin?_

I could see her right in front of me, made of primal energy. It wasn't comforting or agitating but it was familiar to me, just like her overconfident smile.

"Heh, look at you. Do you even know who you are anymore?"

_I know who you are. She... She said you weren't here anymore._

"I'm not." She gestured into the darkness. "This is all in your mind, or what's left of it. Man, you really let that witch do a number on you. What did you say your name was again? Now I'm starting to forget."

She teased me by turning away but I moved around her.

_Erin. I wanted to find you. To make sure you were okay. You left without saying anything._

She scoffed at me. "Well you didn't try hard enough. Like now. That witch could have never done this to you if you had really been trying to resist her."

Was she right about that?

"Of course I am."

_What?_

"I'm in your mind, remember? You're doing this to yourself. You have only yourself to blame." She pointed across the darkness. "Better catch him before he gets away, or you might never see yourself again."

I saw myself sprinting through the darkness. Running away from me. Erin's light was gone but I didn't need it to see myself moving into the distance. I rushed to catch up, but my other self was moving too fast, weaving through obstacles that I just couldn't see.

_No. I CAN see. I'm not blind or mute. I'm not confused or angered by the sound of other people's footsteps._

The more I reminded myself of things that were true, the closer I got to him. To me. I started to see the rocks he climbed over. The grass I rushed through. I could smell the ocean. Hear it, too. The waves were real close and so was I. One more rock to climb, and if I timed this leap just right...

* * *

><p>I never liked the beach before. Sand was a difficult terrain to navigate covertly and the ocean smelled unpleasant. But I was grateful for the moist sand and ebb tide that brushed against me. They were the first things I felt when I woke up and remembered my name.<p>

I looked at my right hand for confirmation. They were fingers again, but beneath the silt was something I had almost forgotten: Blood. I let that witch get the better of me and someone died for it. This couldn't happen again. Doctor Sarto had to die next.

I wasn't angry or guilty over what happened. I was mostly tired. How long had I been that way? Long enough to catch the sunrise on a new day. Fortunately, this beach was on the other side of the island, away from the asylum. No guard would wander this far, which meant I had a moment to sit and process recent events.

Something was rasping for breath nearby. I heard it as the water receded. It was coming from a large drainage pipe protruding from boulders near me: A perfect place for a Gloomer to lurk. Only the rasping wasn't entirely monstrous. It was pleading and vulnerable. Human. I crept towards the pipe and out of habit, reached back for one of my arrows. The quiver was empty—there was no telling when I had lost them. I could have gone in another direction but something drew me to the sound. I had to know what it was from.

"Lorena?" I recognized her instantly even though her face was disfigured. She was laying in the wastewater that drained into the ocean. All of her face except for her left eye and the corner of her mouth had been transformed by the Gloomlurker curse. The fingers on her right hand had formed into claws. Both of her wrists were still in shackles that were chained to a broken beam of wood.

There was recognition in her eye but the life was also fading from it. She couldn't speak—probably hadn't eaten or drank in days. I knew I couldn't give her ocean water. The only thing I could really do for her was remove the shackles so she would be more comfortable. Their locks opened effortlessly and the moment her hands were free, she reached out and wrapped them around one of mine.

I'm not a very comforting person. I learned a long time ago to keep my emotions in check. Jobs were easier that way, especially the ones where you happened to catch human beings at their worst. It also kept you from feeling real loss when the people around you died, whether it was their fault or not.

I felt loss for the first time when I thought Erin died. I don't know why—I always figured she would get herself killed. But I did feel it then, and a similar pain shot through my chest when Lorena clung to my hand. I had know her for years—we had even slept together on a few occasions, though there was nothing romantic about it. Just a basic need to relieve urges. I wasn't in love with Lorena, but I knew her, and despite her career as a murderer-for-hire, she had proven to me time and time again that she was a _good_ person. The City didn't need to lose another good person.

I knelt down next to the drainage pipe and put my free hand around the claws that had replaced her fingers. There was nothing I could do but I didn't want Lorena to die. As soon as I had that thought, something began to happen. The warped flesh that stretched over her face began to recede. The claws that I held turned back into fingers. She took the first deep breath she could take since I had found her, and I stumbled backwards from a sudden migraine.

While I sat and held my head, Lorena crawled out of the drainage pipe and settled in front of me. "Did you... Did you do that, Garrett?"

"I have no idea." I looked her over. The life had returned to her eye—both of them. She had to have been starving, or at the very least, thirsty. I knew I was. "We have to get off this island."

"No argument here." Out of nowhere, she wrapped her arms around my chest and leaned into me. Considering the night I just had, I gave myself permission to return the gesture.

* * *

><p>There was a small village of servants' quarters beyond the asylum. It was being used by some of the long-term staff. We found food and water there, then made our way back to the docking area. Night returned before another ferry came and that suited us just fine. We stowed away while they were unloading prisoners and made it back to the mainland without a single confrontation.<p>

Lorena and I went our separate ways as soon as we left the dock. I could tell she was still shaken by what had happened to her. Hell, even I was ready to board myself up for a few days. I couldn't that, though. The most I could afford was a good night's rest before I took care of the one person in The City who had made herself a real threat to me.


	9. Sidequests

**Part 9: Sidequests**

"_Garrett, Garrett!_"

I really hated Scribe's bird. I wasn't ready to get up when Rumor sang my name from the railing next to the clock's gears.

"_Where have you been, pal? Garrett, Garrett! Get your ass to my office, okay?_"

Basso must have been teaching her some new lines. Without lifting my head from under my pillow, I threw a cup in her general direction. I'm sure it missed. I was going to have to climb down into the machinery later and retrieve it. At least the bird went away and I could get a little more sleep before answering the unexpected call.

* * *

><p>"Is this bird your idea of payback for me sneaking up on you," I asked as I once again caught Basso by surprise.<p>

He only sounded a _little_ angry. "One day I'm gonna get tired of this shit, Garrett. Then who're you gonna turn to for jobs, ah?"

"One of the three dozen or so other fences in The City." I gestured to Rumor, who had just flown in through the window. "Don't get too used to her. Scribe is still alive and she's going to want her back."

I told him what happened to me at the asylum. What happened with Lorena. In a way, I needed to speak it out loud to help myself take it all in.

"Holy shit, Garrett. That is a _lot_ to process." Basso paced his office and looked around, wringing his hands. "So the she-doctor's a witch? Do... do you think she's got the whole see-all-know-all thing going, too?"

"If she does, I'm sure she isn't wasting her time watching you piss in the streets."

He chuckled nervously and tried to relax. "Yeah, well I have a job for you if you wanna take your mind off things."

"I'll try to do it on the way to Dayport. If Sarto's back home, I have to kill her before she knows that I'm no longer one of her Gloomers."

"Yeah, sure, I understand." Basso grinned broadly at me. "I think this is one that you're gonna like, though."

* * *

><p>I left his office with the added task of intercepting a courier package, being delivered by the infamous Tom Grayer. Good thing I got his secret from Scribe, or this job would take more time than I wanted to spare.<p>

Dogs didn't have a very long lifespan in The City since the days of the Gloom. After the cattle purge, they became one of the quickest sources of meat next to birds and rats. That's why the Baron's Watch kept theirs in cages—so desperately hungry vagrants couldn't add them to their dinner table.

A few people still claimed to use them as pets and could be seen walking with them through the districts. I followed one on her way to Dayport. The dog she walked looked too much like a giant rat to really be well-taken care of. Its face was gaunt and the fur that draped on its back was dingy and long. It didn't match the shorter fur on its legs.

I waited in a dark alley to take her by the neck and the dog by the leash. She fainted, which suited me just fine. The dog whimpered but I knew it wasn't because of any particular concern for the woman. I gently lowered it to the ground and could clearly see the shoddy stitching that pinned the false pelt to the dog's underbelly. Some of the stitching had gone septic. I'd like to think the dog had a sense of relief when I put it out of its misery. It certainly looked sick and hungry enough to accept a peaceful death.

Grayer's secret was any man or woman willing to take a few coins to see that a dog reached its destination. Each dog had a false pelt sewn onto it to hide the document it carried. Obviously the dog was never returned to Grayer's door. Scribe had watched him for weeks before a key change lead her to follow the dog walkers: The breed of Grayer's dog. Since old Tom wasn't in the breeding business, that had to have meant that his supplier had switched products.

It's always the simple things that get you in the end. I couldn't wait to rub Grayer's nose in that.

I hadn't gone fifteen steps from the crime scene when I was stopped in my tracks by a sound: Ravenous, like the drinking I heard beneath the butcher shop. I turned slowly to see the source. A Gloomlurker had moved in and started eating the dog's corpse. Three more crawled into the alley and went for the woman. I reached for my bow but a growl behind me told me that was a bad idea. I was pretty sure I knew who it was before I even turned around.

Six moved in a deliberate circle around me but I stood my ground, staring him down. I wasn't afraid of him or the others. I should have been, but something had changed since my time at the asylum. A side glance at a nearby window showed me that the primal energy was still burning in my right eye. I took one good look at Six and saw his move before he could make it.

I hopped backwards to avoid his grasp. We had traded places during our standoff so my hop put distance between me and his hunting party. The other Gloomers broke away from their meal to climb the walls of the alley and try to surround me. I used the claw to knock one down and dodged the grab of another. A third tried to drop behind me but I slid backwards through its legs and kicked it in Six's direction.

Their ringleader leaped over his packmate and lunged for me. I caught him by his forearms and pit my weight against his. He definitely had a few pounds on me. Six leaned his head forward and I watched the jagged line tear in his flesh to reveal the beastly teeth beyond.

He was going to bite my face off if I didn't do something about it but the only thing that seemed right in the moment was to keep my hands on his arms. This wasn't Six—it was some monster that had taken over his body. The witch had cursed him like she had cursed me, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to give him whatever strength I used to overcome it.

My hands suddenly felt like they were on fire. They _were_ on fire, but the flames were blue. It spread to Six's hands and burned away the claws that had replaced his fingers. That same fire traveled across his entire body, trimming him down and removing the flesh that had grown over his normal features. We both dropped to our knees after that and if I hadn't still been holding onto his wrists, I think we would have knocked heads.

"What the bloody hell?" Six yanked his arms out of my grip and looked around. His "Oh shit" reminded me that we were still surrounded by Gloomlurkers. At first, they looked confused by the loss of their own, but they quickly focused on closing the distance between us. I didn't know what I had done to reverse the curse on Six but the headache I had told me I wasn't going to be able to do it a second time, let alone four more.

So we ran like hell.

* * *

><p>It wasn't easy outrunning a pack of monsters that could scale buildings with little effort. Once Six and I lost them, we had to catch our breath before we traveled to his hideout: A large cellar hidden behind an old stone levee near the docks. It flooded often enough that a waist-high line of moss had grown on the the walls. Six kept a lot of his important items strapped to the ceiling with fishing nets. He was happy to find all of his belongings in tact. I was just glad that we were there in between overflows.<p>

He was there to change clothes. Frankly, I was surprised he could find dry ones. I went with him because I realized killing the witch wasn't going to be a one man job. Not with those Gloomers lurking around.

"That shit was such a nightmare, Garret. I can't thank you enough for shaking me out of it."

I climbed into the hammock he used as a bed and stretched out for a bit. "I have to kill the witch, Six."

"Count me in for it, mate. You have no idea what it was like roaming about as a _Freak_."

"I do. I was one, for a brief period."

He stopped dressing and looked at me. "Is that how come you could shake the curse off me?"

I shook my head and closed my eyes. "It's more complicated than that, I think." At least, I was sure that it still had something to do with the primal stone that had been lodged in my eye.

"Well whatever it was, I owe you big for it. Bet Scribe'll have a few secrets to share with you, too, once she sees I'm well."

I looked up at the hooks that suspended the hammock from the ceiling. "Scribe isn't here anymore, Six. She was taken to Moira."

"What?" There was dread in his voice. "Don't tell me she's been turned into one of those _things_."

I shook my head and sat up as he breathed a sigh of relief. "She's being held until she gives birth. Sarto seems to have that much compassion, at least." Either that, or she planned to sacrifice a newborn to the old gods. I kept that part of my theory to myself.

Six nodded his head with newfound determination. "Good. Good. Then there's still time to spring her."

"The witch needs to be dealt with first." I pushed off the hammock and approached him. "Scribe will be safe as long as she's pregnant and from the looks of her, she still has a few months to go. Besides. She's better off behind a locked door than out on the streets with those Gloomers roaming around."

He saw reason but I could tell he didn't like it. "What's the plan to put that bitch down then, eh? Should we fetch Lorena? She'd probably be up for it."

My face lost its certainty for a moment. "I'm not so sure about that. She was in the asylum, too."

"She what—is she still there?"

I shook my head.

"Is she one of them now?"

"She was. I fixed her."

Six let out another sigh of relief. "Oh good. Well that's the important thing, innit? Guess it's you and me, then." He took his crossbow off the wall and clipped it to his back. "We should stop by mom's. Let her know I'm well."

I agreed with him, but only because I also felt like paying the Queen of Beggars a visit.


	10. Family Reunion

**Part 10: Family Reunion**

The Queen of Beggars wasn't Six's mother but he liked to treat her like she was.

"Mom, lookit you. Radiant as always, you are. Why, if you were a few years younger and Scribe weren't carryin' my kin, I'd take you and run away from this awful city."

Or something like that. At least they hugged like a mother and child who hadn't seen each other in a while. I watched their reunion and gave them plenty of space.

Eventually the Queen turned her head in my direction. "The sons of The City have returned. I knew you would succeed, Garrett."

"I haven't succeeded in anything yet. I just managed to save myself, and Six."

"Don't forget me, or am I the dog's liver now." Lorena approached our gathering from the church's inner ruins. I wasn't surprised to see her walking around but I still had to wonder.

"What are you doing here?"

She chuckled and moved to stand near the Queen of Beggars. "Now don't try to make this out to be anymore than it really is, Garrett. You know that just like the rest of us, when you've been through something you can't understand, you come running to _mommy_."

I was going to have to stop doing that if I was getting so predictable. I let the three of them talk for a bit since it was what they did best.

"Garrett's gonna kill the witch what cursed us," Six announced.

"Not without me, he isn't. I almost died out there. I'm going to show that bitch how to really kill someone."

"Do you believe it to be so simple," the Queen of Beggars asked. "I would hate for you all to be lost again after just being found."

"Yes I do, and it has to be done anyway." Lorena took a slip of paper from her bosom and waved it around. "Several generous donors have pooled their resources together and hired me to kill her. She's going for quite a hefty sum."

Six gestured between us. "Gonna split that three ways, then? Don't mean to sound needy or nothin' but you know I got a baby on the way."

"It's always about money with you."

"Fair's fair, love. We do this together, we get a share."

I couldn't take it anymore. "You three are wasting my time." I approached the Queen. "The primal energy inside me. Is it enough to use against Sarto?"

She reached up to touch my face. Normally I would have moved out of the way but this time, I knew it was necessary. She eased her hand into my hood and ran it along the right side of my face, close to my eye. Whatever she was sensing must not have been good. This close to her face, I could see the slightest wrinkle in her forehead and crow's feet—that hint of concern that no one wants to show you.

"No." Well this _was_ serious. Whenever the Queen of Beggars gave a short, straight answer, things were far worse than they appeared. "What you have is not a power meant to be wielded violently. It is there to assist you when you need it most."

Somehow her vague explanation made me feel better. "So you're saying I was able to restore Six and Lorena because I needed to? Maybe in Six's case, but Lorena wasn't trying to bite my face off."

"Actually, you were able to restore them because you _wanted_ to." Her knowing smile taunted me. "You care about them, Garrett, whether you'd like to admit it or not. That caring allowed you to set them free."

Lorena chimed in immediately. "Aw, Mister I-Want-To-Be-Alone-All-The-Time cares."

Six added a little salt to my irritation. "Love you too, brother. We're mates for life, you and I."

"_I'm done here_," I hissed and turned for the exit. Lorena might have been the only one mocking me but I still didn't want to hear anymore from the three of them.

* * *

><p>"Where do you think you're going?" Lorena and Six had followed me into the graveyard.<p>

"I'm going to deal with Sarto _alone_."

"And do you have a plan for that, Wounded Pride? The Queen just said your hocus-pocus isn't good enough to beat the witch."

"I'll figure something out."

"I already have."

I only stopped because I heard Lorena waving another piece of paper around. If she had an idea, I wanted to hear it just to tear it down.

"In three days, the 'good doctor' is going to have a party at her manor. It's a welcoming party which will be attended by all of the affluent people of our city. She won't be able to use her powers during it because that would expose her and she'd be burned at the stake. She'll be vulnerable, and I plan to waltz in, slip her a poison cocktail, then get her someplace nice and quiet to finish the job."

Damn. A party was the best time to strike, especially if it kept Sarto from using her powers. "I doubt it's going to be that easy."

"Why else do you think I'm standing here?" Lorena slipped in front of me. "I need your help, Garrett. There's going to be lots of guards and locks, and who knows. Maybe the witch _will_ get bold and use her power in public." She flashed a smile at me and Six. "And don't forget the loot. With all those aristos gathered in one spot, I bet there are some unique finds that they are just aching to part with."

There _were_ a few rare gems that I could pick up from such an event. "Fine. At least the three days will give us time to case the property and prepare."

"Oi!" I glanced at Six over my shoulder. "If the soiree's not for days, then I got plenty of time to spring my old lady from the mad house, yah?"

"That is a bad idea," I said, then turned as Lorena walked around me to stand with him.

She told him, "If you're going now I'm going with you. Scribe's like a sister to me and I refuse to be left alone with the likes of you two."

I grumbled at the both of them. "I promised Scribe I would get her out of there, but it's just not safe right now. Not with the Gloomers running around. And if someone identifies you, Sarto will know something happened with her curse and we'll lose the element of surprise."

"So come do what you do best, Mister Ghost. Help us vanish Scribe from that place without a trace."


	11. Escape from Monster Island

**Part 11: Escape from Monster Island**

When did my life become so complicated? It used to be all about the steal. Taking what I wanted without getting caught. Mostly because I could but also because there was good money in it. Tonight, I found myself sitting in a rickety fishing boat, staring up at the night sky and wondering where it all took such a left turn.

Six-Fingers was celebrating a fish he caught off the side. A small fish but it was his first.

Lorena sat behind the fisherman who owned the boat, draping her left arm around his collar. Her right hand kept a crescent-shaped blade tipped against his neck. He rowed to the best of his ability but after putting up a fight and paddling the length between the mainland and Moira, the old seadog looked ready to collapse.

Our boat approached the island from the angle where I knew the beach was located. We parked it in the sand and tied up the fisherman. "Be a good boy," Lorena told him, "and we'll set you free once we get back to the mainland. Be a bad boy, and I will come to your home and peel the skin off that pretty little daughter you told me was the reason you had for living." I could never tell if she was joking or not when she said things like that but I certainly wasn't going to show my concern to the fisherman. After he nodded to assure us of his cooperation, we left him laying next to the oars in the boat.

I will say that Lorena and Six knew how to put on their game faces when they were on a mission. We worked our way back to the asylum by passing through the servants' village. We didn't need to say anything to each other during the trip—we moved in and out of the shadows, trading places and signaling each other with the slightest gesture. Now this was more my speed. The quiet night complimented by a rush of cool wind and the possibility of a challenging encounter.

That last element seemed a bit lacking after a while. As we moved closer to the center of the village, we started to notice the quiet a bit more. It made us slow down to take in the environment a little better.

No one was home in any of the windows we looked in. Maybe the staff had been called to the asylum for a meeting. We continued to move quickly and quietly but something about this didn't sit right.

* * *

><p>Moira Asylum was worse than a ghost town: It was infested by Sarto's Gloomlurkers. We could see them through the windows, rushing down the hallways and taking out anyone they could find. Some windows were broken by the desperate and others were covered in streaks of blood and gore. Lights were on everywhere so it wasn't hard to see the massacre play out.<p>

"I knew this was a bad idea." Funny. Saying 'I told you so' usually felt better than that. Then again, Lorena wasn't always there to punch me in the shoulder.

I didn't think Six could get any paler than he was. "Thought you said she'd be _safe_, Garrett!"

"She could still be alive," Lorena said as she moved forward. "Let's try the front door."

By all appearances the asylum's front entrance was unlocked and unbarred but when we tried the handles, it wouldn't budge. Sarto had done this deliberately. Maybe she always meant to kill them. She was raising an army of Gloomers in the basement—she certainly wasn't going to let anyone live to tell the rest of The City about her little surprise.

"Oi." Six waved us around a corner. He'd found a cellar door that was locked on the outside. No need to enchant it if nobody could get out. I picked the padlock, then listened for a moment to make sure we weren't about to run into something. Nothing but wind. We pulled up our masks and went in.

The cellar was being used to store old asylum equipment. There were crates, tables and worn bed frames piled up against each other. We had to weave through all of it to reach the next door. Despite her stature, Lorena navigated the maze without shifting anything. Six-Fingers had equally impressive control over his gangling limbs. Watching them reminded me of the days we used to run into each other more often. None of us were this disciplined at first but each time we saw each other again, all three of us had more tricks up our sleeves. I really admired the evolution of their survival skills.

We stopped and looked at each other when we heard a noise from the other side of the door. An overturned hospital bed was the last barrier between us and the open space in the cellar. We gathered behind it just as the door came open. One of the guards fell in and was followed by a Gloomlurker that made short work of his throat. It bothered me that I knew just how easy it was for them.

The Gloomer stooped to feed on its kill. It would have been the perfect distraction if it weren't facing us. I had a quick solution to that: I scooped up a handful of loose screws and pebbles, then passed them to Lorena since she was at the edge of the bed furthest from our obstacle. After nodding, she took them one at a time and flung them at a drainage pipe in a corner of the room. The Gloomlurker moved in the direction of the sound and we were free to move on.

She decided to take one step further than I would have. While Six and I crept for the door, Lorena tipped up behind the Gloomer. I could have told her it would sense her once she got close enough. As soon as it spun around, she jabbed it in the face with her palm and cut its throat with a curved blade. Ash sprayed from the wound and when its body hit the floor, it shattered into a pile of dust.

Six-Fingers approached the dust pile and pushed some of it around with his hand. "Guess we know that's possible now."

"Figured I'd give it a shot." Lorena pulled a pair of blades from her hips and offered them to us. They were thin and light—no wonder they cut so quickly. I didn't know any of the Gloomlurkers well enough to try and change them back like I did her and Six, so putting them out of their misery was the next best option.

* * *

><p>Most of the Gloomers were too busy chasing or feeding to notice us. The ones that did notice us were quickly taken down. Slicing or stabbing the neck seemed to work best. Six discovered on accident that cutting the leg worked just as well. A Gloomer dropped on him from the ceiling and he caught its leg with his knife hand, purely by chance. It was dust before they hit the floor. Lorena reasoned it was because he nicked something called the femoral artery. Trust her to know the medical term for a part of the body that could kill you with a single cut.<p>

The women's ward was quiet but no less of a horror show. There were bodies everywhere. None of them looked like Scribe; still, it wasn't pleasant to check.

Her room door was wide open and droplets of blood lead us in the direction of the women's dining hall. Six moved the fastest to follow the trail. The one Gloomlurker that tried to get between him and the rotating door was cut down before it could verbalize a warning. Lorena and I just followed along and kept our eyes open.

In the cooking area, the blood trail was lost in a bigger mess: The head chef and her assistant were torn limb from limb. What wasn't eaten was thrown around room; in fact, the only body part that was remotely in tact was an upper arm that gripped the handle of the oven door.

We looked through the mess to make sure none of the parts belonged to Scribe. "Shit, man. Where the hell is she?" Even in a whisper, I could hear the grief building in Six's voice. Then I saw it: A small, partial handprint on the door of the oven. I kept my knife in the ready but as I pulled on the chef's wrist, I was pretty confident what I would find inside.

"Six. Your bun is in two ovens right now."

Scribe's small size made it easy for her to hide in something as sturdy as a cast iron oven. Luckily for her, the chef didn't have time to light a fire before the Gloomlurkers entered the dining hall.

Lorena and I kept an eye on the doors while Six and Scribe had their moment. She was understandably surprised to see him and he was in awe of how much her belly had grown. He also had to take a moment to wrap her right arm, which was still bleeding from a recent attack.

"Sixy... I can't believe you're _alive!_"

"Long story, love. Almost drowned out there at the Dawn but the Watch still arrested me. Tell you the rest another time. What happened here?"

"It was insane! I was by myself. Suddenly the whole building shuddered, and every door opened at once. As soon as I looked out of mine, this Freak jumped out of nowhere and nearly took my arm off! I'm only glad that I cooperated like Garrett said so I wasn't still in bonds with the door came open."

I listened to them but there was something else I heard—or rather, didn't hear. "_Hey. Something's changed_." We gathered near the door to the women's ward. There were no more screams of terrified staff members. No more bold challenges from suicidal guards. The Gloomlurkers had run out of other people to hunt, which meant we would have a more difficult time going unnoticed.

Lorena licked the corner of her mouth when she realized what that meant. "Well, ladies, this is officially a kill or be killed situation." She took another blade from her hip and handed it to Scribe.

I said, "Let's head back to the cellar."

Six shook his head. "But there's all that stuff down there. Scribe won't make it through."

Lorena agreed with me. "Then we'll clear a space. Use the junk to block the inner door. The only other way out we know of is the front entrance and that is _not_ an option."

* * *

><p>We worked our way back in the direction we came and it was no small feat avoiding the Gloomers. Lorena eagerly took the lead, taking out any solitary wanderers we came across. We played it safer when more than one was around. Pretty soon, all we had to do was descend into the foyer to reach the cellar we came from.<p>

Twenty. I counted twenty Gloomers feasting on the corpses in the entry room. The slightest noise seemed to draw their attention at random. This was worse than running into a line of guards after breaking into a vault.

We had no time to come up with a plan. A Gloomlurker feeding at the foot of the stairs saw us and signaled the others. They all came racing up the staircases on either side of the foyer.

Six jumped over the upper level railing and I lowered Scribe to him while Lorena killed the first Gloomer that managed to reach us. She and I went over the rail together and made a run for it, but there was so much gore it was hard to gain any traction for speed. The Gloomlurkers followed our path and caught up just as we ducked into the cellar's stairwell.

This was not the way I wanted to die. Inches away from freedom. Being hauled backwards into a room full of half-eaten body parts. Lorena was pulled first and I saw her desperately fighting against the crowd that surrounded her. I stabbed the Gloomer that had a grip on me and others turned to close in. There was nothing between me and the cellar—I could have joined Six and Scribe and shut the door behind me. Then I looked at Lorena again. Her leather gear took the brunt of the Gloomers' strikes but it was being torn to shreds and she would be as well. No time to think. I pushed my way through the pack, cutting down the ones I could, until I was just as surrounded as she was. The Master Thief and the Master Assassin were going to die rescuing a pregnant spy for a pickpocket that should have drowned.

I'm not sure what happened next. I'm only sure about the feeling: A fire that burned me from the inside-out, starting in my right eye. I think I went blind for a moment. I knew I lost the feeling in my arms and legs. A deep thrumming overtook my eardrums. I was pretty certain the death blow had been struck. Any moment now, I expected the Trickster to beckon me into the Maw of Chaos.

* * *

><p>In the midst of darkness, I heard the sea. Death didn't seem nearly as bad with the sound of treading water echoing in my head. Of course, that meant I couldn't actually be dead. I opened my eyes but there was something wrong. I could see the night sky, just not as broadly as I could before. I attempted to move—lifting my shoulders turned out to be more than I could do at the time.<p>

"Garrett." Lorena moved her head into my field of vision. Her face had a few cuts and bruises but she was very much alive. My head must have been in her lap but I could barely feel to tell. My ears seemed to be the only things fully cooperating with me. Listening for a few moments told me that someone was rowing a boat. The boat I must have been on. Were we on our way back to the mainland? I could only remember a room full of claws, teeth and dismembered people.

I struggled to say, "What happened."

"Your hocus-pocus went off again." Six-Fingers grunted in time with the stroke of the oars. He must have been the one rowing.

"It all happened so fast." Lorena tilted my head so I could better look in her direction. "You caught fire—a strange, blue fire—then you exploded and all the Gloomers were reduced to ash. I had to carry you out of there." She smiled and tweaked my nose. I couldn't even lift my fingers to swat hers away. "You are as light as you are lean, Master Thief."

This had to have been what the Queen of Beggars meant when she said the power I had wasn't meant to be wielded violently. I could feel some of my body gradually but for the most part, I was dead weight in the boat. There was also the matter of my reduced visual range. "Did I lose my right eye," I asked and almost didn't want to hear the answer.

Lorena shrugged and shook her head honestly. "Not sure. Blood was trickling from underneath your eyelid so I bandaged it for now. We can take a look when we get back to the mainland."

With her help, I was able to sit up and look around. Scribe sat in the front of the boat, trying not to be seasick. Six was rowing like I thought he was. With just the four of us in the boat, I had to ask. "What happened to the fisherman?"

"Oh, he was ripped to pieces, the poor bastard." Six-Fingers shook his head but hardly looked remorseful. "Probably shouldn't have left him tied down, but we had no idea what would come of it. Gave his pocket watch a new home, though. Was still on the beach. With part of his torso."

"Remind me never to die near you, Six."

"Oh, I'd be real respectful with your things, Garrett. You saved the life of me family and I'll never forget it. You too, Lorena. I owe you big for stickin' this out with me."

She replied, "The only thing I want now is to kill that witch. Not just for the money, either. She's probably going to turn those monsters loose on The City, and if she succeeds, then we will have lost everything."

I didn't like to play the hero, but I knew she was right. The Gloomlurkers made short work of the asylum staff and guards. They would tear through The City worse than the Graven riots. I also suspected that there were a lot more lurking than just the ones we saw tonight. Salvo could have a whole army of those things waiting for the right time to strike.

"How long do we have before the party?"

"Two more days," she answered.

"Good." That meant I had time to rest and restock my supplies. If I was going to do this, I was going to be overly prepared.

* * *

><p>I could barely walk when we made it back to the mainland. Lorena insisted on helping me get home and Six-Fingers agreed to meet us on the night of the party. I would have preferred to have been left by myself until then, but even going up a small flight of steps took some effort. It would have taken me all morning to make it to the top of the clock tower.<p>

When we got there, I gave Lorena a look that meant it was time to leave but she didn't pay any attention to it. She always did what she wanted, and what she wanted was to tuck me in.

"You realize I can barely move right now," I reminded her.

"Relax. I'm not about to force myself on you. Though you can't tell me that would be an entirely bad thing."

"Another time," I grumbled and waved her away. As soon as I stretched out in my bed, she crawled in alongside me and made herself comfortable.

"Shouldn't you go do something about the cuts on your face," I mumbled.

"After I check your eye and the rest of you for permanent damage." She hovered over my face so I could see the conviction in hers. "You burst into _flames_, Garrett. Your eye bled. You wouldn't respond to anything I did to try and revive you. Frankly, I was pretty sure that I was dragging a _corpse_ out of the asylum until I heard you take a breath while we ran through the village. Now, I'm going to sleep here today, and when we're both awake, I'm going to make sure that you're okay."

Lorena settled in and brought her head to rest on my chest. "It's the least I can do after you saved my life twice," she added.

Sighing, I gave up on trying to get her to leave. I wasn't making much of an effort and I knew her concern was genuine. I was just tired of people getting attached to me. It didn't do Erin any good and I was pretty sure that staying detached is part of what saved me from Sarto's Gloomlurker curse. I didn't want to be comforted by others or for others to be comforted by me. I just wanted to do what I do best.

"You brought me back to the mainland, so after you've had your sleepover, we're even."

I expected her to be upset with me for saying that, or at the very least, to turn her back on me in the bed. She must have been more tired than I thought because she didn't even move. All she did was whisper two sentences:

"You're not the only person who cares about others, Garrett. Just the only one afraid to say it out loud."

I couldn't really respond to that, and not just because I could tell she'd fallen asleep. I had said I cared once before—to Erin when I thought she needed to hear it most. The words didn't seem to help at all. Only my actions did. The skills I had developed to take what I wanted and vanish without a trace. The most effective way I knew to show I cared was to use those skills on behalf of others. In a few days, I was going to do it again.


	12. The Witch Hunt

**Part 12: The Witch Hunt**

My eye was still there, but the skin around it would be bruised for a while. Something must have ruptured after I caught fire but at least I could see out of it when I woke up in the afternoon. What's more, the blue haze of the primal energy was gone. I had to wonder if it was really gone this time or if it just receded like before.

The rest of my body also recovered after a long sleep, much to Lorena's disappointment. I'm sure she would have loved to spoon-feed sloop to me over the next few days, but since I turned out to be all right, she took off to make her own preparations. There was no time to enjoy my solitude, though. I had several errands to run to get ready for Sarto's party.

* * *

><p>I always enjoyed a good high-society gathering. Almost all of the wealthy citizens were usually in attendance and less attentive to their valuables. Parties like these were either a great opportunity to take what you could from their homes, or a challenging occasion to relieve them of their evening ornaments right from under their own upturned noses.<p>

We each entered the manor in our own way. Six-Fingers knocked out a servant retrieving flowers from the greenhouse and took his place. Lorena had Scribe forge an invitation and she walked right through the front door as a visiting countess. I didn't care to play dress-up. There were too many windows on the upper level that worked just as well as a paper invitation.

Needless to say, I also took this opportunity to relieve the good doctor of a few expensive items while I worked my way to the ballroom. I hadn't forgotten about that tourmaline but after seeing what it did in the asylum, I was sure she kept it on herself at all times.

Six had the same idea as I did. When I made it to my vantage point, I could see him politely pushing through small groups of aristocrats, gently relieving them of small coin pouches and other decorative gems. Balancing a tray of hors d'oeuvres with one hand and pocketing gold with the other. The subtlety of his touch was... Artful. Admirable. Maybe only having six fingers did make him a better pickpocket. I was going to have to challenge him one day to really know who was the best.

I signaled them from a walkway that overlooked the the manor's ballroom in the shaded darkness of its high ceiling. Sarto stood below me, accompanied by the Thief-Taker General and an abundance of admirers. She wore that same dark blue evening dress she had worn when I followed her before. The tourmaline was also draped perfectly from her neck. I could see a hungry look in Six's eyes when he saw it—One look from me and he knew it was claimed. Owning a man's life has its advantages.

I watched Lorena insert herself into the gathering. Wearing a high-balanced coiffure and heavy makeup made her barely recognizable. She said all the right things and made all the right gestures to stay close to Sarto in the group. She was ready. I nodded to Six and switched to the other end of the walkway to stay out of the same spot for too long.

Another servant was carrying a golden goblet in the doctor's direction. Six made his intercept and hastily traded trays. That much went easily enough. A little too easily. The servant looked like he was caught unawares but the longer I studied his face, the longer I noticed something was wrong with him. He wasn't dumbfounded, he was _entranced._ They all were. I looked from one servant to the other and finally noticed that they all walked as if they were in a dream. The guards she hired had similar looks on their faces. Did she charm them because she didn't want to pay them money?

One of the servants looked all too familiar to me. He was one of the eight prisoners who was in the ritual I witnessed! Not only could Sarto turn people into Gloomlurkers, she could turn them human again. This party wasn't meant as an introduction to The City's high society; it was a _trap__**.**_

I didn't particularly care for the aristos but a lot of my income depended on them. I tried to signal Six so I could warn him but he was too focused on the task at hand. He brought the drink to Sarto with an added ingredient: A variation of the paralytic agent that the Thief-Taker used on Scribe. Six was subtle in his approach, making sure that he didn't draw attention to himself, but Sarto still lingered her gaze on the back of his head while he drifted away. She had to have sensed that he wasn't one of her thrall.

Smiling, she broke away from the group and moved for the center of the ballroom. Lorena started to follow but the Thief-Taker General moved with the doctor and made sure that the crowd cleared a space for them to stand. Sarto was going to make a speech. Lorena looked up at me and I directed her attention to the servants so she would have an idea of what was going on.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" It took a few moments for the party to quiet down. "First, I must say that you have all made me feel so very welcome in this city. It is quite refreshing to see so many embrace a woman with a doctor's title." The crowd applauded until she raised her hand.

"I hope you will all forgive me for taking so long to host this party. With all the moving and business at the asylum, I had to find what time I could to receive you. To hold you captive with my every gesture." She raised her goblet, then deliberately tipped it sideways to drain its contents in a puddle at her feet. It was certainly an attention-grabbing gesture. The crowd whispered among themselves and didn't even notice when the guards closed and locked the doors around the room.

Six and Lorena looked in my direction. Time for Plan B.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I did that." Sarto held the goblet out to Accardi. "As much as I hate to waste good wine, I knew that cup was poisoned. There is an assassin hiding among us." The crowd's murmurs grew louder at the implication. "No doubt someone caught wind of my plan and decided to put a stop to it, though I'm afraid it's too late for this part at least."

I was preparing my bow when I heard something move above me. To my surprise, four Gloomlurkers were clinging to the ceiling fixtures and waiting in the darkness for their moment to strike. A fifth one slipped in from a vent and joined them. They ignored me for now, so I went back to targeting Sarto.

"You see, I am not here to save you from the poverty-stricken, criminal-minded wretches you can't bear to know exist. Rather, I am going to bring them to you as the monsters you fully believe they are."

Time to act. I fired a sawtoothed arrow at the witch's head.

_The Thief-Taker caught it_. He plucked my arrow out of the air as if I had casually thrown it his way! Screams of horror from the crowd were an understatement of my own astonishment. Then three Gloomlurkers dropped around me and I had to move. I leaped over the rail and threw the claw at a chandelier that hung too far away to grip. It held my weight long enough for me to swing down to the floor with a haphazard landing.

The crowd was understandably alarmed by my presence. Depending on who you spoke to, I was either a nightmare or a fantasy. Or both.

No one in the room was more surprised to see me than Doctor Sarto. "My dark angel. You are your old, unsightly self again? How? I don't understand."

I ignored her questions and asked some of my own. "I want to know _why_, Sarto." I was stalling for time. Searching for a solution in the environment. "Why go through all this trouble? Using the Thief-Taker to take out the poor while you take out the rich. What will be left of The City?"

She smiled and gently stroked the tourmaline. It shimmered briefly—I knew there was another reason it always caught my eye. "Nothing. There will be nothing left of this city, for I have come to raze it to the ground and build a new era upon its ashes."

At that moment, every servant and guard dropped what they were carrying and doubled over in pain. Six was the odd man out but he quickly pushed through the crowd to stand near me. Lorena as well. She threw aside her wig and detached the skirt from her dress so that she could easily reach the knives strapped to her leathers.

I noticed something else: The last time Sarto used her powers near me, I felt like my head was going to explode. This time there was nothing. Maybe I really did use the last of the primal energy in the asylum. The witch must have noticed, too, because she looked at me curiously.

"Your primal power... I can't sense it anymore." She shook her head in disbelief. "Have you truly lost that which made you so special?"

"No." I signaled for Lorena and Six to pull their masks over their faces. The servants and guards were coming out of their skin and the other Gloomlurkers were headed down the walls. Panic spread through the crowd but that was to be expected. We couldn't stop the partygoers from trampling each other in a reckless effort to escape death.

What we could do was deal with the Gloomers. I remembered how I saw and sensed when I was transformed. How the movement of others and their energies attracted me. In anticipation of a Gloomer encounter, I made a special purchase from the black market. Firecrackers were normally only available during the summer festival but if you knew who to talk to, you could buy them year-round. I bought more than enough for me, Lorena and Six to keep in hand.

As the Gloomlurkers closed in on the groups that pushed against the doors, we scattered smoke bombs around the room and threw firecrackers near the edge of the crowd. The noise kept the Gloomers confused and the partygoers scattered in the smokescreen, making themselves harder targets. Lorena seized the opportunity to run among them and take out as many Gloomers as she could. Six disappeared in the smoke with his sights set on the Thief-Taker General. I stared down Sarto until the smoke provided enough cover for me to disappear from her view.

I could see her searching through the haze for me. "Tell me, Master Thief. Why would you want to help these people? This city? With all that you are—all that you can do—surely you do not hold a fondness for such a world with limited possibilities?"

I kept to the smoke, circling her to find the right angle of approach.

"You're too good for this city. Don't you crave a real challenge? Come to me, and I will take you to places where the treasures are just as intricate as the traps that guard them."

My answer was to break the links on the chain around Sarto's neck. I made it behind her and tore the necklace from her throat. When it happened, she made the worst scream I'd heard in my life. It gave me a splitting headache but I still managed to hide the tourmaline on my person and move away before she could try to take it back from me.

I backed into something and suddenly couldn't breathe. There were fingers wrapped around my throat and they were abnormally strong. I held onto the hand's wrist and found myself lifting off the ground. Sarto was still looming angrily nearby which told me I was being held by Thief-Taker Accardi. My suspicion was confirmed when I saw Six from the corner of my left eye, occupying the General's other hand. He had provided the distraction I needed earlier but now we were both choking to death in the Thief-Taker's supernatural grip.

Sarto held out her hand and spoke furiously. "Do you think that what you do here today matters, Master Thief? That you will stop me and this will all go away? The same power that drew me to this city will draw others and I am merely here to stake my claim. You had your chance to be spared but now the only future you will see is death! _Give_ _me the stone_ so that your death might be swift, or I will pry it from your corpse after you have known everlasting pain!"

I stopped struggling and smiled. Lorena stood behind the witch like a shadow of death, dusted in the ashes of the Gloomers she'd killed. She embraced Sarto from behind and tore her throat wide with a serrated dagger. Then she stabbed her in the neck and twisted the blade for good measure. It was definitely more than I would have done but you can never be too careful.

As soon as the witch dropped to the ground I could feel Accardi's strength fading. I dropped out of his grasp and struck him in the knee with the claw, shattering his kneecap. He still held a deathgrip on Six-Fingers but after I brought the claw down on his forearm his fingers sprung open. Six was still alive but had nearly run out of air. I made sure that he was able to sit up before I turned to Accardi and stepped on his broken leg.

"I almost believed the speech you sold me when we spoke in your office, but after what happened at the Dawn, I knew it was just as superficial as the strength you borrowed from Doctor Sarto." I made sure to dig my heel into his knee so he couldn't talk overtop of his pain. "A lot of innocent people died because of the change you swore to bring to this city. I'd kill you myself for what you've done, but I'm pretty sure that you've already signed your death warrant for siding with a witch." I took great pleasure in knocking his head against the marble floor with my blackjack, then stepped away from him and helped Six-Fingers to his feet.

Not everyone could be saved. When the smoke cleared, there were a few bodies and more than a few injured. Nearly everyone was covered in the dust of dead Gloomlurkers. Those that Lorena hadn't killed were destroyed when Jordan Sarto bled out. I'd like to say it would have been nice if they had turned human again, but I knew who they were and where they came from. The vagrants who deserved rest now had it. The criminals that deserved punishment had been punished enough.

The crowd of high society partygoers didn't quite know how to react. Two thieves and an assassin had saved their lives and they couldn't understand why. The three of us had nothing to say that would have helped them in this situation. At least they had the forethought to move out of our way when we approached the ballroom doors. I demonstrated just how easily I could pick the lock on something that sizable, then pushed past the doorway with Six and Lorena behind me. We rushed through the main hall, past the piles of dust and armor that once stood as guards, and disappeared in different shadows when we reached the courtyard. I'm sure the crowd followed us with their eyes for as long as they could but none of us stopped to look back on what we had done.


	13. The Light in the Shadows

**Part 13: The Light in the Shadows**

We met again days later to split the bounty for Jordan Sarto's death. By then, Francesco Accardi's body cast its dead stench all across the clock tower plaza. He was hung from the Watch Council office for conspiracy against The City and consorting with a witch. Hopefully the next Thief-Taker General would be less ambitious.

Six and I watched his swaying body from where we sat on a rooftop across the plaza. "I know he was a bastard and all, but they should really cut him down soon, yah? Least before his guts burst with blowflies."

"Can't say I enjoy having the smell so close to home. Or the sight. It stopped being entertaining once the crows took his eyes."

A sack of gold landed in each of our laps and we looked up to acknowledge Lorena. "Count it if you want, but I had to shake down a few fences so I can assure you it's all there."

She sat on the other side of me and the three of us looked to the distant coastline. The asylum's lights were still on in a few places, shining across the dark like pairs of demons' eyes. "Moira's ghost will have plenty of company from now on," I muttered.

Six added, "May they rest in peace. Hopefully the Baron'll stop trying to use it as a prison now that it has such a bloody report."

"Speaking of prisons." Lorena leaned around me to slap him on the shoulder. "You need to find a better home for Scribe. You can't raise a baby in a flooded cellar."

"Oh don't worry, love. Moving day's fast approaching. Found a flat in Eel's End that's been boarded up for ages. Few rugs here and there and it'll be just like owning a real home." Six slapped his hands together and reached down his vest. "Almost forgot!" He took out a square of parchment and unfolded it so we could see the artful rendition of his masked face. The bounty on his wanted poster was set at fifty-five thousand gold.

"Pretty as a picture, innit?" He held it out proudly. "Fifty-five's not bad for a fingersmith, neither."

Lorena scoffed. "Please. I'm up to sixty-five. Of course, now that there is a greater risk for me to be seen in public, my services have gotten even more expensive." She brought a hand up to my shoulder and I promptly removed it. "What about you, Garrett? What did you get for your trouble?"

"Seventy-five." I have to admit, their groans made me smile.

"But you're just a _thief!_ I _kill_ people for a living!"

"What can I say? The toppers would rather die than lose their heirlooms and other conversation pieces." I was also sure that some of the ladies of high society wanted me taken alive and were willing to pay good money to see me one more time.

Lorena sighed and gestures to the plaza below us. "Well the witch was right about one thing: We really are too good for this city. We saved all those aristos' lives and they repay us by upping our bounty. At least we were paid." She glanced sideways at me with a hint of greed in her eyes. "What did you do with the the witch's stone?"

"Added it to my collection." Truthfully, I had hidden the tourmaline in the clock tower better than I had hidden anything else in my collection. The fact that Sarto used it to channel her power told me that I couldn't let anyone else get their hands on it. I was going to have to study it one day but in the meantime, I had to keep it out of reach.

That greedy look in Lorena's eyes eventually turned to disappointment when I stared down her playful thought of cashing the tourmaline in for more money. After that, I rose to my feet and stepped away from the roof's edge. The night was getting older and I had other things to do.

Before I got too far, I was halted by Lorena's hand on my wrist. "Hey. Don't be such a ghost all the time, Garrett. Linger for a while."

"Yah, mate." Six pulled a satchel from his back and began to reveal its contents. "Brought a little bread I thought we could break together. A little wine, too. All good stuff, bought not pinched from a shop in Auldale."

I studied them quietly for a moment. We ran into each other a lot back in the days when we were all smaller, skinnier and hungrier. We had grown in our separate ways but came to understand The City and excel at surviving its trials. I respected them a great deal for that, and for what we'd just been through. If I had to admit it under duress, I guess I would agree with the Queen of Beggars when she said that I cared about them.

Even though we only came together to complete a grim task, I had to admit that I enjoyed Six and Lorena's company. Which meant that they had earned a little more of mine. I retook my seat on the edge of the roof and reached for the wine bottle after Six had opened it. Lorena split the loaf of grain bread into equal thirds for each of us. The full moon drifted overhead and we laughed about the worst jobs we could remember, all while eating and drinking the time away.

End


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